One Year
by Laura Louisa Lewis
Summary: Harvard Law student Jamie Reagan and his brother, NYPD Detective Joe Reagan, communicate over the course of one very important year.
1. Chapter 1

Author Note: Thanks to all who read or reviewed my first story (Driving with Danny, from last February). I didn't know how to respond to reviews at the time, so those who reviewed didn't get the individual thanks they deserved.

This story is complete, and chapters will be posted over the next week or so. I had planned to have it published months ago, but it always wanted one more scene. Reviews are always appreciated!

Laura L.

* * *

><p><strong>ONE YEAR<strong>

**MARCH 27, 2008**

"This. Guy. Likes. To. Hear. Himself. Talk." Jamie Reagan, Harvard Law student, looked down at lone note he'd typed during the first half hour of today's Global Governance class. The guest lecturer the regular professor had brought in wasn't holding his attention. What did grab his attention was the little flashing icon on his laptop screen indicating a new e-mail had arrived. Jamie opened the e-mail program and clicked open the message.

... ... ...  
>To: Jamie Reagan<br>From: Joe Reagan  
>Subject: Roomie?<p>

Hey, Harvard, since you'll be clerking in NYC this summer, want to room with me? My roommate just got hitched and moved out so I could use a hand with the rent. You'll have your own room, but the bathroom is shared. Let me know ASAP, because if you don't want it, there's a waiting list.

Det. Joe  
>... ... ...<p>

Jamie tried not to smile, which would have given away that he wasn't paying attention to the dreadfully dull lecture. _Rooming with Joey, or with Mom, Dad and Grandpa?_ There wasn't a lot of debate. He hit the reply button.

... ... ...  
>To: Joe Regan<br>From: Jamie Reagan  
>Subject: Re: Roomie?<p>

Sure. It'll be just like when we were sharing a room at home! But what about your girlfriend?

Jamie

... ... ...

To: Jamie Reagan  
>From: Joe Reagan<br>Subject: Re: Re: Roomie?

You have to get your own girlfriend. I'm not sharing.

Joe  
>... ... ...<p>

Jamie glanced at Sydney Davenport, sitting in the next row forward and a few seats to his left, apparently completely caught up in the lecture. One strand of dark hair was tucked behind her ear, giving him a clear view of the side of her face: dark eye, soft cheek, lips turned down in a slight frown as she typed some notes on whatever point the guest speaker was making. Smart, sexy and sure of herself. Perfect girlfriend material, if only she wasn't dating some big-shot attorney from her hometown. Although he'd heard some rumors that relationship had hit a rough patch. Maybe he still had a chance! He pulled his attention back to his computer before his thoughts wandered too far off course.

... ... ...

To: Joe Regan  
>From: Jamie Reagan<br>Subject: Re: Re: Re: Roomie?

I'm working on the girlfriend issue. You want me to draw up a lease? I've got some samples we could use, from my Property class. I think the 65 page one would work nicely.

Jamie

... ... ...

To: Jamie Regan  
>From: Joe Reagan<br>Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Roomie?

Write up a lease if you want. I'll have my attorney review it. You probably know her – smartypants by the name of Erin Reagan Boyle. I know she'll give me good legal advice, because I'm her favorite brother and she likes me best.

... ... ...

To: Joe Regan  
>From: Jamie Reagan<br>Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Roomie?

Does not. She likes _me_ best because I'm the cute little baby brother.

... ... ...

To: Jamie Regan  
>From: Joe Reagan<br>Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Roomie?

Does too like me best. I was the original baby brother.

... ... ...

To: Joe Regan  
>From: Jamie Reagan<br>Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Roomie?

Does not.

... ... ...

To: Jamie Regan  
>From: Joe Reagan<br>Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Roomie?

Does too.

But we can finish that debate when you move in. I've got to go to work. Criminals to track down, brother to argue with. Same as usual.

See you soon, kiddo.

Detective Joe

... ... ...

Jamie tried to contain a smile. He and Joe were going to have a great summer!

"Mr. Reagan!" The professor's voice rang across the room.

Jamie jumped to his feet. Apparently he hadn't been successful in hiding his lack of attention to the lecturer.

"Perhaps you would you like to tell us what point our guest speaker just made?"

"Yes, sir." Jamie swallowed hard. Beside him, his friend, Spencer Croft, cleared his throat, and Jamie glanced at the words Spencer was typing on his computer. "Somalia. The lack of rule of law in that country," he read off Spencer's screen. "And… sir," he finished awkwardly, as he realized the rest of Spencer's note wasn't meant to be read aloud. _And pay attention, Jame-o!_, it read.

* * *

><p><strong>MAY 15, 2008<strong>

_Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzz. _Jamie pushed the buzzer on his brother's apartment building. "Joe, let me in already," he griped to himself. He checked his watch again. 3:00 p.m. Right when he was scheduled to arrive to move in with Joe for the summer. _Bzzzzzzzzzzzz. _He leaned on the buzzer.

"Well, what do we have here?" a familiar voice asked from behind him.

He started to turn around, then found himself pushed against the wall. "Danny, what the hell?"

Joe's voice interrupted him. "Looks like one of those disreputable lawyer types. We'd better search him."

"Okay, punk, hands on the wall, feet apart," Danny barked.

Jamie recognized the game and decided to play along. "Can I bribe you with this sixer of beer, Officer?" he asked, holding the six-pack he'd brought with him out to his side.

Danny took the beers out of his hand. "Well, Detective Reagan. Looks like the lawyer punk brought the good stuff. Think we should let him go?"

"I don't know, Detective Reagan. If we run him in, we'll have more beer to divide between the two of us." Joe teased. "And your wife did ask us to delay him for at least fifteen minutes. It's only been ten."

Jamie felt himself being spun around, then caught in a tight hug from Danny. "Welcome home, kid."

Joe was right behind Danny with another hug. "Welcome back, almost-a-lawyer. So you're a senior now?"

"Rising 3L." Jamie replied. "See, once next semester starts, we'll be third years – 3L's. But between now, when the 3L's have graduated and then, we're called 'rising' 3L's."

"In other words, Joe, he's a year away from being done with school," Danny cut in. "Harvard, less talking, more hauling bags upstairs so we can get to this beer."

"Fine. Give me my beer back, and you can carry my suitcase."

"No way, baby brother. You're not responsible enough to be trusted with adult beverages."

"Am too! Give it back!"

"Danny, the door's open. Run for it!" Joe called to his brother.

Danny ducked into the door, followed by Joe. Both of them ran for the staircase.

"Hey!" Jamie grabbed the small suitcase he'd pulled out of his car and managed to squeeze in the door as it was closing. "Get back here with my beer. Hey!" He ran up the stairs after his older brothers, then down the hall to Joe's third-floor apartment. He pushed open the door and…

"Surprise!" Most of his family called out from inside the apartment at what was clearly a welcome-back party.

"Aaaaagh!" Jamie yelped and stumbled backward over his own feet, landing on his behind on the floor.

Danny and Joe both doubled over in laughter. "See, kid, I told you you couldn't be trusted with adult beverages. Think of how bad it would be if you been holding that beer when we scared you," Danny told him.

Joe walked over to Jamie and extended a hand to help him up. Once he was back on his feet, Joe handed his brother one of the beers. "Here you go, kiddo. Thanks for bringing refreshments to your own party."

* * *

><p><strong>MAY 22, 2008<strong>

"Mr. McKinney, may I introduce Jameson Reagan, one of our Harvard clerks." Matthew Harris said to one of the founding partners of the redoubtable law firm of Baker McKinney. "You may recognize the name. He's the son of our new police commissioner."

Jamie forced a smile onto his face and extended his hand to Mr. McKinney. "Pleased to meet you, sir."

"Police Commissioner? Is that so?"

"No sir, my father is police commissioner," Jamie joked. It went over like a lead balloon, like he thought it would. But after three hours of this meet and greet party for the summer associates, he was already tired of being introduced as Jameson 'Son of the Police Commissioner' Reagan.

"Well, I'm sure he'll do a better job than our last commissioner," McKinney said. "Let me tell you about the last time I had to deal with him."

Jamie tried to feign interest in the man's story. He was the senior partner, and therefore his boss for the summer. But, good lord, was he a bore. Just like so many of the other attorneys he'd met tonight. As soon as the man concluded his tale, Jamie politely excused himself, saying he needed a refill of his wine.

He headed toward the wine service table. A smile spread across his face as he spotted Sydney Davenport, his classmate from Harvard who was also clerking at Baker. They'd taken the Global Governance class together last semester, and despite his best efforts, he hadn't been able to make the move from law school friend to boyfriend. It looked like she was also getting a new glass of wine. "Hello, Sydney."

"Jamie! God, I am glad to see you. These lawyers are such pretentious bores," she gushed, hooking one arm through his.

"And you want to be one?"

Sydney laughed. "Not like them. I want to be pretentious, but not boring."

"Not possible," Jamie retorted. "Boring, but not pretentious; that's possible. But I don't think it works the other way."

"Jamie!" Sydney giggled again, leaning against him. "Are you saying I'm boring?"

"Never, Syd." He handed her a glass of ginger ale, since it appeared she'd already had plenty of wine. "Come on, let go sit down over here and discuss you pretentiousness." He led her across the balcony to a bench on the edge of the party.

As soon as they sat down, Sydney took a sip of the beverage Jamie had handed her, and nearly choked on it. "Ginger ale? What?"

"Sydney, you seem kind of buzzed," Jamie stated.

"No, 'm not." Sydney frowned, then slumped against him. "I can't be. Davenports do not get drunk in public."

"Well, I think you might have done it."

"I missed dinner. Ms. Anderson had a lot of work she needed my help with. And lunch was a long time ago. And the waiters are too attentive here," she babbled on. "I lost track. I was going to limit myself to one, maybe two glasses, but I lost count."

"It's okay. Drink the ginger ale."

Sydney curled closer against him. "Jamie, the partners can't know I'm drunk. They'll think I'm a lush. They'll lose all respect for me, and I won't get any good assignments, and I'll never get hired. I've got to get out of here." She started to stand up.

Jamie wrapped an arm around Sydney's shoulders to hold her down. "Wait. You're not too steady on your feet. Let's think of a plan." Damn, it was hard to think with the girl he'd wanted to date for the past year curled against his side with her head resting on his shoulder, her dark hair cascading around her face, her long eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks, her soft lips only inches from his… "Kiss me."

"What?" Sydney managed to raise her head from his shoulder.

_Oh god, did I say that out loud? _ "Kiss me," Jamie repeated quietly as he tried to think of a plan where that statement would make sense. "If we make out for a few minutes, anyone that sees us leave will think we're just going somewhere to… um, to be alone. And when we're leaving, you can lean on me without anyone thinking you're drunk."

Those beautiful lips spread into a smile. "Reagan, I like the way you think," Sydney whispered. She leaned over and pressed her lips to his.

Jamie wrapped his other arm around her waist and returned the kiss. He tried to keep a hold on his emotions as fireworks began going off inside his brain. _It's not real. It's not real._ But it felt real. He had to stop before things got entirely out of hand. He pulled away from the kiss. "Syd, you ready to go?"

Sydney pouted. "I guess so."

_Is it possible she actually wants me to keep kissing her?_ Jamie smiled at the thought. "Come on. Let's get you back to your place." He stood up, then pulled Sydney off the bench and into a hug, to cover any unsteadiness. With her leaning against him and his arm wrapped firmly around her waist, the two of them slowly walked out of the party.

Jamie arrived back at Joe's apartment two hours later. Joe turned away from the late, late show on the television to greet him. "Kind of late for a school night, kiddo."

"Yes, father." Jamie joked. "I had to escort Sydney back to her place. We stopped for a snack on the way."

"Sydney. You're really besotted with her."

"Besotted? Where'd you dig up that word? And I'm not."

"It was in a book Angie left here. And yes you are. Your get this goofy little smile whenever you say her name. Just like with Katie."

Jamie laughed weakly. "No I don't. Syd and I are friends. That's all."

"Right. It's about time you had a real girlfriend. It's been a while. Since you and Katie broke up after your freshman year at Harvard, right?"

"There's been other girls since then," Jamie protested. "I dated in college."

"Not seriously, kid. So, are you and Sydney an item now?

Jamie shook his head. "Not yet. She needed help getting home. She'd missed dinner, and then drank too much on an empty stomach."

"Ouch. That's not going to impress the bosses."

"It's okay. We got out of there without anyone knowing. We pretended she was my girlfriend. Kissed for a while, then left together hugging each other."

"You know, that might cause some other problems. It might look like she went home with the first guy she met when she was tipsy; like she's a 'buzz her and bed her' kind of girl, and you're the guy that will take advantage of that opportunity."

"Joey! That's not what I did. I just made sure she got some food and back to her place safely. And Syd's not like that," Jamie argued.

"Not saying she is. Not saying you would. I'm just saying other people might get the wrong idea."

"Well, people shouldn't make that kind of assumption. I'm going to bed." Jamie headed back to his bedroom, hoping Joe was wrong and irked at himself for not thinking his plan all the way through.

Unfortunately, Joe's words proved prophetic. Early the next morning, Jamie was at his desk, reviewing his to-do list, when Rob Winslow, one of his fellow clerks, walked in to their shared office.

"Jamie! Hookin' up with the hottie!" Rob exclaimed. "Didn't know you had it in you, you little Catholic schoolboy, you."

"Rob, what are you talking about?"

"The hot clerk. Sydney. Everyone saw you two leaving the party last night. She was all over you like a rug on the floor. Like paint on a wall. Like tread on a tire. Like…"

"Stop it, Rob. It wasn't like that," Jamie protested. "We know each other from Harvard. She missed dinner, so we went to get a bite."

"Oooh, kinky. Didn't think _she_ had that in her."

"A bite of _food_. At a restaurant. Nothing happened. She went back to her place, and I went to mine," Jamie protested again.

But the jokes and innuendos continued all morning, and not just from Rob. He could only imagine what Sydney was hearing. Finally, he made the time to stop by the office she shared with two other clerks. Sydney was sitting at her desk, surrounded by law books and printouts of legal cases, trying her best to look busy. "Hey, Syd," Jamie greeted.

Sydney looked up at him with red eyes. "Jamie. Are you sure you want to be seen with the office slut? For what's being said, I'll hook up with anything male." She grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk and dabbed at her eyes. "And they don't even have to get me drunk first."

"From what I hear, I'm not just 'anything male.' I'm _The Man_. Able to bed hottie clerks after a single drink." Jamie rolled his eyes at the stupidity of it all.

Sydney sniffed in indignation. "That is so completely unfair."

"Yeah, it is." Jamie perched himself on the corner of Sydney's desk. "But, for what it's worth, no one's talking about you drinking too much last night."

"Think I'd rather be the office drunk than the office whore."

"Hey, come on, you're neither of those things." Jamie leaned toward her and lowered his voice. "I have another idea, if you want to hear it."

"What is it?"

"Go out on a real date with me? It'll confuse the heck out of the gossips around here. And I like you," he finished in a rush.

Sydney finally smiled, just a little. "I figured that out last night. That kiss didn't feel faked."

Jamie's smile froze on his face as he tried to think of how to respond. "Sorry," he finally muttered.

"Don't apologize. I liked it. And I like you. But why haven't you said something before? We've had at least two classes together at Harvard."

"It just never seemed like the right time. You were dating that guy, the lawyer from Connecticut, and then you'd just broken up with him."

"Samuel. That snobbish weenie," Sydney commented. "He was my family's choice for the perfect husband."

"Well, I may not be your family's perfect husband, but how about a date? Dinner on Saturday?"

"Okay. Sure." Sydney replied, looking up at him with a much larger smile.

Jamie stood up, took Sydney's hand in his and bowed forward to kiss the back of her hand. "Au revoir, Mademoiselle Davenport." He turned and walked out of Sydney's office. _Let them talk about that!_

For the rest of the day, Jamie did his best to hide a goofy smile. He was going on a date with the girl he'd been dreaming about dating for the better part of a year. And work-wise, he was getting more interesting assignments this year. And living in Joe's apartment meant he was spending more time than he had in years with his favorite brother. This summer looked to be a great one.


	2. Chapter 2 - Summer 2008

**Chapter 2 – Summer 2008**

**JUNE 6, 2008**

"So, Joe, where's Angela taking you for your birthday dinner tonight?" Jamie asked his older brother as they both prepared for their dates that evening.

"Don't know. 'Someplace you'll like' is all she would tell me."

"So someplace that serves steak, medium-rare, baked potatoes with butter, chives and sour cream, and a small salad if they have to give it to you," Jamie joked.

"Nothin' wrong with a good steak, kiddo. Better than that rabbit food you've developed a taste for. And since it's my birthday, I'm eating what I want to." Joe adjusted his tie and checked his hair one last time. "Where are you and Sydney going for your third date in as many weeks?"

"Some new place she heard about. Earth. It's supposed to be eco-friendly food."

"Earth, huh? Sound yummy. Do they serve mud pie?"

The doorbell ringing interrupted their banter.

"That's probably Angie." Joe checked his reflection in the mirror one last time. "See you later, Jame. Don't wait up."

A few minutes later, Jamie also headed out of the apartment he shared with his brother to meet up with Sydney at her place, within walking distance of the restaurant. The two of them enjoyed a pleasant stroll to the café. "Reservation for Reagan, party of two," he told the host.

"This way." The man picked up two menus and headed across the restaurant.

Jamie and Sydney began following him, then Jamie abruptly stopped in his tracks. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"Who, Jamie?"

Jamie pointed across the room to a table where Joe and Angie were sitting at a table. "My brother, who is supposed to be at a steakhouse celebrating his birthday."

Joe looked up and spotted the two of them. He waved them over to the table. "Jamie! Look where Angie chose for dinner. Turns out Earth's menu includes steak and potatoes. Small-herd, grass fed cattle and organic potatoes, but still, it's steak and potatoes."

"Joe, don't let us interrupt your plans. If you'd rather have a private dinner, we have our own table."

"No, kiddo. The more the merrier, at least for dinner. Sit down."

"Only if Angie's okay with it," Jamie insisted.

"Of course, Jamie. Joe, can you introduce us?" Angie asked politely.

"Oh, sure. Angie, you know that guy, and the charming girl on his arm is his girlfriend Sydney. Sydney, my girlfriend Angela."

"Angie, please." Angela stood up and shook hands with Sydney.

"Sydney works with Jamie at that law firm," Joe explained to Angie. "She's also a law student up at Harvard."

A few minutes later, Jamie and Sydney had finished reviewing the menu and placed their orders. Conversation moved to the various careers represented at the table. "Joe, Jamie said you're a detective? What kind of crimes do you investigate?" Sydney asked.

"I'm on the Warrant Squad right now. It's pretty much just what it sounds like. We track down people who have warrants out for their arrest."

"I'm sure you have some interesting stories. Anything you can tell us about?"

Joe smiled. "There was this one case last week. We were looking for this guy. Had some warrants for traffic violations, nothing real big, but he was ignoring them and the Major Case detectives wanted to question him about some other crime he'd witnessed. So we went to nab him. He runs, of course. But he's on the third floor, so he doesn't have a lot of places to go. He ran down the hallway and around a corner. We come around the corner and he's gone. Then we hear these whimpering noises. The genius had decided to try and hide in the trash chute. He's in there, braced against the walls, slowly slipping down because the sides are covered in slimy gunk. He was too far down for us to reach, so all we could do was watch him slide down to the basement. When my partner got down there, the guy is curled up in the dumpster, sobbing. Turns out he's got a germ phobia. Can't stand touching anything dirty, and there he is, just coated in all kinds of yuck."

"The poor guy," Sydney said.

Joe shrugged. "He chose his hiding place. But lucky for me, some rookie cop was available to drive him back to the station for us."

"I guess the new person gets the bad jobs in any profession. Just like at the law firm, right Jamie? The clerks get all the boring, crappy assignments? Like that discovery project you just finished today."

"Yeah, but no one wants to hear about that," Jamie added. "My great achievement for the week. Organizing twenty boxes of paper." He tried to force down a spike of jealously. People wanted to hear Joe's stories, even when they ended with slime-coated criminals. No one wanted to hear about his amazing feat of indexing twenty boxes of discovery in two days. He wasn't sure even he cared that much.

* * *

><p><strong>JUNE 24, 2008<strong>

"Mr. Reagan, Mr. Harris wants to see you in his office," the legal secretary shared by the law clerks at Baker McKinney called into the clerk's office.

"Oooh, Jamie. The senior junior partner wants to see you. He must need a mug of coffee fetched," Rob Winslow joked.

"Nah, Harris knows I only handle the big cases," Jamie Reagan teased back. "He must need the entire coffee urn." He exited the room and headed for Harris' office on the next floor. Hopefully, he was finally going to get to do some real legal work! It was about time, after spending last summer and the first few weeks of this summer summarizing depositions, indexing discovery and researching obscure points of law that most likely would never be used. Maybe he'd finally get an assignment that would get him inside a courtroom!

He returned an hour later, carrying a thick file. The case sounded interesting. A wealthy car salesman who'd started out working in the service garage and now owned a chain of dealerships was being accused of tax evasion and a host of labor law violations, mostly relating to payment of overtime, and apparently there had been some allegations of money laundering and other illegal activities as well. The client, of course, claimed he was innocent of all charges. Harris had tasked him with reviewing the file, in preparation for a second meeting with the client in a few days. "See what he's b.s.'ing us about and if he has any defenses," Harris had ordered.

Jamie enthusiastically opened the file and started trying to decipher Harris' handwritten notes from the initial client meeting. The man had the worst penmanship ever! Finally, he turned to the next document in the file: a memo from one of the senior partners to Harris.

_To: Matthew Harris_, Jamie read. _From: Andrew Swain. Re: Staffing - Clerks. Bring Jameson Reagan in on this one. He's got that blue-collar/working class vibe that will go over well with the client. Keep Julia Brinson on also. The client apparently likes the big-busted look. Couldn't keep his eyes off her chest at our meeting._

Jamie re-read the letter, then read it a third time. _Working class vibe?_ Was that the only reason he'd been given this assignment? And what did they mean by that anyway? "Rob, come read this," he asked.

Rob read the memo and snickered. "Well, he's right about Julia. She's stacked. And you do have a vibe that working-class people could relate to."

"Whatever. I guess I thought they gave out assignments based on our skills. I'm going to go talk to Harris."

"I wouldn't do that," Rob warned Jamie.

A few minutes later, Jamie wished he'd heeded Rob's warning. He'd shown the memo to Harris and asked what it meant.

Harris had looked over the document. "That wasn't supposed to get into the file," he remarked.

"Well, it did, and now I want to know what it means," Jamie demanded.

Harris leaned back in his chair. "It means you and Julia are the best people to keep the client happy."

"Because I'm 'blue collar' and Julia is… well-endowed?"

"Think of it this way," Harris said, tilting his chair forward. "All you clerks are like cars on an expensive car lot. They're all good cars, and any one of them would do the job, but you buy the one that has the right features for your needs. Rob and your little girlfriend Sydney are like luxury sedans, a Beemer or a Volvo. They look good and work well; they'll get the job done, but they don't really have any special features. You? You're our upscale SUV, our Range Rover. You have all those luxury sedan features that you want in an attorney, but we can take you off-road, into the mud if we need to. Julia, she's more like a high-performance sports car, lots of looks, lots of power, plus she's got those _great_ headlights." In case Jamie missed the innuendo, Harris gestured toward his chest with a leering smirk. "She just needs to turn them on some more."

Jamie suddenly felt embarrassed for Julia. She was probably the smartest of all the clerks, and she was being chosen for this assignment only because she also happened to be larger-busted than most of the other girls, and ridiculed because she dressed conservatively. And he was only being chosen because the senior partners thought he was 'blue collar'. "I'm glad we got this cleared up," he told Harris as he turned to leave the room.

"Reagan, now don't go away angry," Harris called to him.

Jamie turned around at the door. "I'm not angry. I just have a lot to think about." _Like if I really want to be an attorney, if this is how I'm going to be treated._ He headed back to his desk and tried to find his earlier enthusiasm for the case. Somehow, it didn't seem so interesting anymore.

The conversation with Harris was still on his mind hours later when he returned home to Joe's apartment. Joe and Angela were already there, relaxing on the couch, a baseball game playing on the television.

"Hey, little brother, want a beer?" Joe asked.

"Sure," Jamie replied unenthusiastically.

"Grab one out of the fridge. And get one for me while you're in there."

Jamie shook his head. Joe had played him yet again. He got the beverages out of the refrigerator and headed for the living room. He silently handed one bottle to his brother.

"Hey, kid, what's wrong? Bad day at the office?"

"Joe, do I have a 'blue collar, working class vibe'?" Jamie asked his brother.

Joe stood up from the couch and perused his brother. "Hmmm." He grabbed his brother's shoulders and rotated him around. "Well, you've got the fancy suit, and the spiffy tie, and the shiny shoes, and…" Joe leaned in and sniffed. "And you smell _pret_ty. I'm not picking up working class. What do you think, Ang? Does he smell blue collar to you?"

"I think you should quit teasing your brother. Jamie, you look very nice. And that cologne is pleasant. Woodsy, I guess."

"What's this about, kiddo?" Joe asked.

Jamie plopped down into a chair. "Harris assigned me to a case because I have a 'working class vibe that would go over well with the client.' And the other clerk on the case, Julia, was chosen because she…" Jamie glanced over at Angela. "Because she's well endowed."

"Money or boobies?" Joe asked, making his girlfriend laugh.

"Joey! There's a lady here," Jamie protested, but Joe was still waiting for an answer. "Boobies. Well, money also, but that's not the point. I thought they gave out assignments fairly, based on our skills, but it looks like it comes down to 'vibes' and… boobies," he griped.

"And you're jealous because you don't have any?"

"No!" Jamie glared at his brother, but felt a small smile forming.

"Because, if you are, I bet you could borrow one of Ang's underthings, and stuff it…"

"You stuff it." Jamie swung a foot toward his brother's leg.

Joe skittered out of the way. "… with tissues. Or maybe socks. Depending on how 'well-endowed' you want to be," he finished with a laugh and dropped back onto the couch beside his girlfriend.

"Joe, quit teasing your brother," Angela scolded. "Jamie, maybe Mr. Harris meant it as a compliment? You do seem more down-to-earth and practical than some of your law school friends who've only known high society life."

"Maybe. But how do you spin that comment about Julia into a compliment?"

Angela thought for a moment. "Okay, you can't justify that. Your boss is an elitist, sexist pig."

"Amen to that," Jamie commented.

"But if you want to try the boobies thing, I'd suggest water balloons, not socks. It'd look more natural. And you'd need to buy a bra. Mine would be too small to fit around your chest."

Jamie choked on his beer. "I am not having this conversation."

Joe unsuccessfully tried to hide a laugh. "C'mon, kid, sit over here with us. We're not afraid of that 'working class vibe' of yours."

Jamie moved to join his brother and Angela on the couch and tried to put the events of the day out of his head. But he couldn't get rid of one little doubt. _Am I preparing for the right career? Is lawyering really what I want to do?_


	3. Chapter 3 - Early Fall 2008

**Chapter 3 – Early Fall 2008**

**AUGUST 16, 2008**

"Mom?" Jamie knocked on the doorframe of his parent's bedroom.

"Jamie, come sit down." Mary patted the empty space beside her on the settee. "Are you all ready to head back to Harvard?"

"Joe's car is all packed and we're ready to leave as soon as he finishes stuffing his face," Jamie replied as he walked across the room and sat down beside his mother. "Are you sure I can't bring you something for lunch? There was a sandwich left over."

Mary shook her head. "I'm feeling tired today. I'll get something later." She took her son's hand in both of hers. "Cambridge must feel like home to you, after all this time."

"Not like here. Harvard's temporary. This is home."

"And there will always be a place for you here, with your father, grandfather and your brothers and sister. Don't forget that, even if you decide to stay in Boston."

Jamie fought back a wave of sadness as he realized his mother had left herself off that list. He wasn't going to think about that right now. "I'm still considering Baker's job offer. You know they offered either New York or Boston. Sydney wants to stay in Boston."

"Sweetie, Sydney's a nice girl, but you have to choose the job that's right for you. Whether that's with Baker here or in Boston, or some other job, you need to decide what's going to make you happy."

Jamie nodded. "I know. I have a lot to think about." _Like if any attorney job would make me happy…_ Instead of raising that subject, he decided to change it. "So, you like Sydney?"

Mary smiled. "She's a nice girl. And you trust her. I've never known you to let anyone drive your car before."

"That's because Joe has his own car, and Danny or Erin would wreck it! Syd was planning to ride back with me today, but then she needed to get back to Harvard early," Jamie explained.

Mary wouldn't be deterred from her original point. "Jamie, as nice as Sydney is, you've got to choose the career that will make you happy. You can't take a job that's wrong for you just because Sydney wants you to. If you're miserable in your work, it will wear away at your happiness at home."

"Yeah." Jamie really didn't want to go down that conversational path and admit to his mother that he was almost ready to throw away her dream for him to become an attorney.

"Promise me you'll think about it." Mary winced as a sudden pain gripped her side.

"Mom? Are you okay?" Jamie asked worriedly.

"I'm fine, sweetie. Just a stitch in my side."

"Mom, are you sure I shouldn't stay here? I could take the semester off…"

"Jamie, we already talked about this. Harvard is where you need to be right now. Everything will work out like it should. Now give me a hug before you go."

Jamie wrapped his arms around his mother, noticing again how thin and fragile she felt. "I love you, Mommy." He couldn't stop the tears this time.

Mary kissed her son's cheek and hugged him closer. "Love you, Jamie." She held him tightly for a few minutes, before releasing him. "Now go knock'em out at Harvard."

Jamie tried to smile as he left his mother's side for what he now realized was probably the last time. "Love you."

* * *

><p>Several hours later, Jamie sat in the passenger seat of Joe's car, staring out the window as the scenery changed from New York City's skyscrapers to suburban sprawl and almost rural open land. "Joe, Mom's not going to last much longer, is she?" he finally asked.<p>

Joe sighed. "Wondered when you were going to ask that," he replied, but didn't answer his brother's question. "Back in May, the doctor said she'd be lucky to make it to the first of August," he finally elaborated.

Jamie bit his lower lip. "So she's made it almost a month past what they expected. But she's so frail."

"I know," Joe replied. "Jamie, I've got a bad feeling we're going to be seeing you back in New York very soon. But until then, you work hard and get this last year off to a good start, okay?"

Jamie nodded and swiped at the tears before they could fall. They were quickly replaced with fresh ones. "I should be there with her."

Joe abruptly pulled his car onto the shoulder and put the gearshift into park. He grabbed a box of tissues from between the seats, grabbed one for himself and held the box out to his brother. "Jamie, she wanted you back at Harvard. She'll be more at peace knowing you're where you're supposed to be."

"I guess so." Jamie didn't even try to hide the tears, now that Joe was crying too.

"We all knew this was coming, kiddo. But it still hurts, doesn't it?" Joe reached over to wrap an arm around his brother.

"At least you'll be there. I won't," Jamie choked out.

Joe pulled his brother closer. "I'll call you every day. Call or e-mail. Keep you in the family loop. Okay?"

"Okay," Jamie whispered.

"We'll get through this together. You and me, Danny and Erin, Dad and Grandpa. We'll get through this."

* * *

><p><strong>SEPTEMBER 24, 2008<strong>

"_Jamie, it's your mother. She just passed away._"

Jamie tipped back the beer bottle, draining the last few drops down his throat. He slammed the bottle down on his coffee table next to the first bottle he'd emptied. Two bottles gone, and still he couldn't stop his father's phone call from a month ago from running through his head.

He'd only been back at law school for a week when the call came, and he'd immediately headed back home to Brooklyn. The five days away from Harvard were a blur: the flight home, Joe meeting him at the airport, the funeral, the burial, so many people in black dresses and suits and dark uniforms expressing their sympathy to him. And then he was expected to go back to Harvard and pick up like nothing had happened; like there wasn't a giant black hole inside his heart. But it had been a month now, and he couldn't seem to get back on track. He reached for another bottle.

Sydney knocked on his apartment door and then walked in just as he'd taken the first swig from bottle #3. Her gaze traveled from the beer in his hands to the bottles lined up on the table. "Jamie, not again."

Jamie gulped down another swig. "'lo, Sydney."

"We missed you in class today."

Jamie shrugged. "Guess you did."

Sydney dropped her bookbag near the door and draped her coat over a nearby chair. "Jamie, if you keep cutting class and drinking, your grades are going to suffer and Baker might withdraw their job offer."

"Don't care," Jamie replied. "I just want to forget this past month." He upended the bottle again.

Sydney knelt down beside him on the couch. She pulled the beer out of his hands and put it down on the floor. "Jamie, I know you're hurting right now, but this isn't going to make it better."

"Yes it will," Jamie insisted, leaning forward to reach for the bottle Sydney had taken from him.

Sydney grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back. "No, it won't. It will just give you a hangover tomorrow." She wrapped her arms around him. "You've got to deal with this sooner or later."

"No I don't." Jamie wiggled out of her embrace and grabbed the beer, draining the rest of the contents in one gulp. Finally, his brain was beginning to feel pleasantly fuzzy.

"Jamie…" Sydney stood up. "I'm not going to stand around and watch you self-destruct. You need to talk to your family." She picked up his phone, wondering which of the Reagans listed in his contacts she should call. Obviously not the one labeled "Mom." Finally, she chose one.

"Hey, little brother, what's up?" Joe Reagan's voice carried over the phone.

"Joe, this is Sydney. Jamie's girlfriend."

"Sydney? Is Jamie okay?" Joe's concern was evident in his voice.

"He's okay. Well, mostly okay." Sydney tried to think of what to say. "He's not dealing with losing his mother very well. He cut classes today, and he's already drunk three beers this afternoon…"

"Three and a half," Jamie called out.

"I guess you heard that. Three and a half." Sydney amended. "And this isn't the first time. He's done this about once a week this month. I think he needs to talk to a family member, if you have some time."

"Give him the phone," Joe told her. "And, Sydney, thanks for calling."

Jamie took the phone Sydney thrust at him. "Joey! What's new?"

"What's new is you becoming an alcoholic," Joe didn't pull any punches.

"No I'm not," Jamie argued. "I don't need to drink. I just need to get my brain to stop replaying this past month every day."

"So you're on the road to becoming an alcoholic. Big difference."

"All the rest of you drink."

"Not to forget or numb our minds. There's a difference between a beer after work with the guys or a glass of wine at family dinner and downing four beers alone in your apartment in the afternoon."

"Three and a half," Jamie said sullenly.

"Good. Stop at three and a half. And tell me what's going on inside your head, while you still have a few working brain cells."

Jamie put the half-emptied bottled down on the table, neatly aligning it with the first three. "I can't bring myself to care about school anymore. It seems so pointless. I thought maybe if I could forget about last month, I could get to where I cared about my classes again."

"It's not working, is it?"

"No." Jamie choked on a sob. "I miss Mom. I don't know how to do this without her. I don't know how to move forward like the rest of you have."

"Who says we have?" Joe asked.

"You do. Danny does. Erin does. All of you. When I talk to you, you're back at work and busy with Angela most evenings. Danny and Erin always tell me about their families and all the cute things their kids are doing, and Dad seems to be back to his busy schedule with work. It feels like I'm the only one that can't get back on track."

Joe blew out a breath. "Jamie, I'm sorry. When we talk to you, we're just doing too good a job of hiding what a hard time we're having. And we have each other to talk to. We've left you out in the cold."

"I thought it was just me," Jamie said quietly.

"No, it's all of us. Listen, tell me what time your last class ends this week, and I'll be there to pick you up. We need to have a family get-together this weekend."

"Joe, that's not necessary. You're all busy."

"You let me decide what's necessary. We all need some time together. What time is your last class over?"

"Thursday afternoon… tomorrow at two."

"Okay. I'll be outside your door at two p.m. And, Jamie, I want you to put a sticky note with my phone number on every bottle of alcohol in your apartment. Right now. And you call that number before you drown any more brain cells, got it?"

"Got it," Jamie replied.

"Good. Now give the phone back to your girlfriend. I'll see you tomorrow, kid."

"See you then, Joe. " Jamie lowered the phone. "Sydney, Joe wants to talk to you," he called across the apartment. He knew he should be a gentleman and take the phone to her, but the sofa had apparently developed a problem with staying level and stationary. He doubted the room would be any more stable if he stood up.

Sydney took the phone from him. "Hello, Joe."

Jamie tuned out the rest of their conversation. Something about getting some food in him, and ordering a pizza for dinner, and… something. He laid his head back against the sofa in an attempt to make the world stop spinning around. For the first time in a month, he was looking forward to the next day. Joe always knew how to make things better.


	4. Chapter 4 - Late Fall 2008

**Chapter 4 – Late Fall 2008 **

**OCTOBER 22, 2008**

"Joe, are you sure that's what Danny said?" Jamie asked his older brother as they conversed during their weekly phone call. Since the family get-together in late September – a quickly-planned fishing excursion to Cape Cod with Joe, Erin, his father and grandfather, spent reminiscing about previous fishing excursions (and how much his mother had disliked them, especially cleaning the fish) and creating new happy memories with his family – Joe had called him at least once a week, and had made sure to include him in the family business, the bad as well as the good. As much as the conversations made Jamie feel more connected to the family and helped him get back into the routine of law school, it still hurt to hear the 'bad'.

"I'm sure the implication was there. That because I'm not following in his footsteps into the Major Case squad, I'm somehow less of a detective," Joe said.

"I'm sure Danny didn't mean it like that," Jamie tried to argue. "It doesn't sound like him. He's always been a know-it-all, but you're his favorite brother."

"Maybe, kid." Joe agreed. "There's just a lot going on with the job right now. I guess it's got me more on edge."

"That's probably it. You need to go out on a date with Angie and relax," Jamie advised, before a knock at the door interrupted the phone call. "Joe, that sounds like Sydney. Let me go answer it. I'll be right back."

"You recognize her by her knock? You two must be getting serious," Joe teased. "I'll say goodbye and call my own girl. Talk to you later?"

"Whenever you want," Jamie replied as he walked to the apartment's door. "Bye for now." He opened the door to find Sydney on the other side, anger and frustration clearly visible on her face, tears welling in her eyes. "Syd, what's wrong?"

Sydney sniffled and walked into Jamie's open arms. "Everything. Nothing is going right today."

Jamie hugged his girlfriend. "Everything?"

"Doctor Marks completely trashed my research paper and me, the head secretary at Baker hates me and I'm being thrown out of my apartment at the end of the year," she elaborated.

Jamie led Sydney to the couch and they both sat down. "What did Marks do?"

"You know he's my advisor for my writing requirement. That paper I have to write before I can graduate."

"The conflict between gender discrimination laws and certain international business customs, right?"

"That one. Dr. Marks says my draft 'doesn't demonstrate that I'm in touch with my feminine side sufficiently to write about gender discrimination'," Sydney huffed.

Jamie smirked. "Sounds like his standard ploy for him getting in _touch_ with your feminine side."

"Jamie!" Sydney cracked a smile. "So you've heard the same rumors; that he likes getting female students alone in his office and feeling them up."

"Yup. With all those rumors, you think someone would have reported him to the dean."

Sydney shrugged. "I would have reported that pervert. But he didn't even try anything."

"Probably knew you would've ratted him out. Pervs like that are good at choosing their victims."

"I guess so. I gave him plenty of opportunity. Got on his side of his desk and stood close to him. I guess he just doesn't see me as female. Not in touch with my feminine side, as he said."

"Or he was on to you from the beginning. Syd, you shouldn't use yourself as bait. Leave that to the trained investigators."

"Yes, sir, Detective Reagan."

Jamie tried not to smile. _Detective Reagan_. But that was a thought for the future. "So what else went wrong today?"

Sydney frowned as she remembered her day. "When I went to work this afternoon, the secretary at Baker – Mrs. Arthurs – told me I'll never get anywhere at the firm because I dress like a man. Just because I wore a pants suit one day last week, when it was snowing! So it looks like everyone thinks I'm not feminine."

Jamie draped an arm around Sydney's shoulders. "Mrs. Arthurs is a bitter harridan," he said, tracing his fingers around the edge of Sydney's scoop-neck sweater.

Sydney leaned in closer to Jamie. "She's a bitter harridan who has the ear of the senior partner."

"Nah. That's what she wants us to think that. Mark Dennon, the senior associate I'm working with, tells me all the partners think she's nuts. And if she thinks you look like a man, it proves she's crazy. I mean, did she even notice how you look in this shirt?"

"I hope not! That would be too creepy if Mrs. Arthurs was staring at my chest."

Jamie slipped his fingers under the edge of the sweater to trace along the edge of her bra. "You couldn't really blame her for staring, though." He reached over to rest his hand on her leg.

Sydney playfully slapped his wrist. "Jamie, you naughty boy. Pay attention to where your hands are."

"I am paying attention." He turned Sydney's head toward his and pressed his lips to hers.

Sydney turned to face Jamie as she returned the kiss. A minute later, she abruptly pulled away, stood up and tugged at something behind her back.

"Syd?" Jamie asked, confused.

"Sorry. Underwear problem," Sydney explained. "I wore this stupid lace thong today, and the damn thing is irritating my hiney. Sometimes it just feels like a sandpaper wedgie. And you know what really annoys me?"

"Wearing that thong, obviously."

"I wore it today in case Marks got ass-grabby. Wanted to make it look real, like I really would trade him groping me for a good grade. The thing's been irritating me all day, and he didn't even try."

"So, do only pervert professors get to benefit from lace thongs, or…?" Jamie reached out for her hand and pulled her over so she was standing in front of him.

"I guess hot boyfriends could have a feel also." Sydney giggled as Jamie's hands slipped up her legs and under her skirt. "So, Professor Perv, do I get an 'A'?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

"Maybe even an A+."

Sydney felt Jamie's fingers trace along the elastic band of the thong. "Jamie, just rip the stupid thing off."

"Definitely an A+." Jamie closed his fingers around the elastic and pulled. The material put up more resistance that either of them expected, and Sydney lost her balance, falling onto her back on the couch and dragging Jamie down with her. He found himself on his hands and knees over her, looking down into her surprised face.

"I'm not wearing underpants," she giggled.

"Kinda wish I wasn't," Jamie whispered.

Sydney teased her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. "I thought my good little Catholic choirboy wanted to wait?"

"Maybe I'm tired of being the good little choirboy," he told Sydney. As he saw her smile, he leaned down for another kiss. Sydney wasn't saying stop, and this time, neither was he.

* * *

><p><strong>OCTOBER 31, 2008 – Halloween<strong>

Jamie sucked in his stomach and quickly fastened the snaps on the shirt of his 'hot cop' Halloween costume. The darn thing was almost skintight. But, in that regard, it matched the shorts.

Joe looked over at his brother and laughed. "Nice uniform, Officer Hottie. Can you even breathe in that getup?"

Jamie experimentally took a breath. "Not very deeply." He looked over his brother, who was clad in a FDNY t-shirt, a pair of suspenders, shorts made to look like fire turnout pants, and a pair of fire boots, all topped with a lightweight plastic fire helmet. "Not a lot of fire protection there, Joe."

Joe laughed as he looked at the two of them in the mirror. "Hey, at least the shirt and boots are real. Borrowed them from a firefighter I know."

"If you told Erin, she probably would have found a way to get you an entire real fire suit, and a fire truck. She goes way overboard on Halloween." Jamie settled his costume's cop hat on his head at a rakish angle.

"Which is exactly why Angie and I are visiting you this weekend. Your party plans sounded less intense than Erin's." Joe reached over and straightened the cap. "Uniform looks good on you, kiddo. The real thing would look even better."

Jamie tried to laugh off Joe's comment. "Come on, Joe. I'm going to be a lawyer. Little late to change that now."

"It's never too late to follow your dreams. I could've been a real fireman, if I hadn't listened to Danny and Grandpop." Joe forced a smile onto his face. "Bah. Don't listen to me. This week at work sucked. Let's see if the girls are ready yet."

_Uniform looks good on you_. Jamie couldn't push Joe's comment out of his mind. "Syd said her costume is 'sexy prison escapee.' What's Angela's costume? Hot nurse?" he asked his brother.

Joe shrugged. "Dunno. She said it would match." He knocked on Jamie's bedroom door. "Ang? Sydney? Ready yet?"

"Just a second, Joe," Angela called. A few minutes later, the two women stepped out of the bedroom.

Jamie appreciatively eyed his girlfriend, who was wearing a black and white striped halter top and short skirt, the fake handcuffs dangling from one wrist. "Nice outfit, Syd."

"Thanks, Officer." Sydney rotated around so Jamie could get the full view. "Joe, what do you think of Angela's costume? She made it herself."

Jamie looked at his brother, who was staring at his girlfriend. Angela's costume was little more than bands of red knit fabric, wrapped around her body to cover what it needed to and decorated with squares of tulle netting in shades of yellow, orange and red, creating the illusion of fiery motion.

"I think Angela and I are going to miss you party, Syd, because there's a fire that needs to be put out here," Joe finally managed to stammer.

Jamie shoved his brother. "Save it for later, hose jockey. You're coming to this party with us."

Several hours later, Sydney and Angela all but drug their inebriated boyfriends back into Jamie's apartment. Angela led Joe over to the sofa, with Sydney following close behind with Jamie. "You two wait out here while Sydney and I go change," Angela ordered.

Joe carefully lowered himself to the sofa. "Ugh. I think I drank too much tonight."

"You think you did? I know I did." Jamie collapsed onto the sofa beside his brother. "Whee. The room keeps tilting. And whirling. Tilt-a-whirling. Make it stop."

Joe pulled the helmet of his fireman costume off his head and leaned back against the sofa. "We are going to regret this tomorrow."

Jamie looked at the clock and frowned. "I think it already is tomorrow. See, the big hand is leaning over that way, an' the little hand leaning th' other way. That means it's…"Jamie studied the clock again. "No. Maybe I'm leaning. Joey, what time 'zit?"

"Five 'till one," Joe provided after a minute of staring intently at the clock hands. He moaned and rubbed his head. "I'm out of practice. Can't get drunk back home, you know. NYPD rules and all that."

"'cause you're a cop." Jamie explained.

Joe spun the lightweight costume helmet on his finger. "Y'know, I wanted to be a fireman. When I was a little kid. But Danny wouldn't hear of it. Danny and Grandpop. 'Not gonna be any hose jockeys in my family,' that's what they used to tell me. And Danny said I had to be a cop, 'cause one of had to follow family tradition and he wasn't going to do it."

"But, Joey, Danny is a cop, right? Unless he changed jobs since last week. And he would've told us if he'd done that, right? So he's still a cop," Jamie argued with his best drunken logic.

"'course Danny's a cop. Danny's a detective. A big-shot, know-it-all detective."

"Detective Danny. Dick Danny. Danny's a dick." Jamie snickered at his own joke.

"Danny's our brother, and we should be nice to him. Even if he is a dick who made me be a cop. I should've done what I wanted to. Shouldn't have let them convince me to become a cop. Should've gone to the fire academy, like I wanted to when I was a kid."

"You like being a cop. Or a detective. That's what you told me… sometime."

"Yeah, I like my job. It's a good job. Being a policeman. Even if it's not what I wanted to do when I was a little kid. It's been a good job. I shouldn't complain. I like what I do." Joe turned to look at his brother. "You should do what you want to. Don't let Danny force you into law-ing… lawyer-ing because he wants you to do it. Follow your heart. 'kay, baby brother?"

"'kay," Jamie readily agreed. "Y'know what, Joe? You're a mopey drunk," Jamie slurred. "Mo-pey." He poked Joe in the arm to emphasize each syllable.

Joe knocked the fake police hat off his brother's head. "And you're dopey."

"Like the dwarves in that movie," Jamie commented with a giggle. "Hey Joey, what's Danny? If I'm Dopey and you're Mopey, which one's Danny?"

"Danny's Grumpy."

Jamie snickered. "Danny's Grumpy." He sat up straighter, then slumped back down on the sofa as the world spun around. "Hey, we should call Danny and tell'm."

Joe felt around his body for his phone. "No pockets. No phone."

Jamie frowned and searched for his phone. "Syd has mine. Hey, Syd!" he called.

Sydney and Angela both walked out of the bedroom, changed out of their costumes into sweats. "What is it, Jamie?" Sydney asked.

"Need m' phone. Need t' call Danny an' tell him he's Grumpy."

"Yeah, Ang. I need my phone too. To call Danny," Joe added.

"Too. To. Tu-tu," Jamie snickered. "Danny's a grumpy balle'rina."

The two women exchanged a glance.

"Wha'?" Jamie asked.

"I think we should hold onto your phones for a while. Maybe you two should wait until tomorrow morning to call your brother," Sydney suggested.

"Don' wanna wait." Jamie collapsed back on the couch. He stuck out his tongue at his girlfriend as she turned to head back to the bedroom.

"Aww, babe, you took your costume off already. I wanted to help," Joe complained.

Angela leaned forward to kiss the top of Joe's head. "Save it for tomorrow night, hose jockey."

Joe watched his girlfriend follow Sydney to the bedroom, then slowly turned to look at his brother. "Your girlfriend doesn't trust you with a tel'phone. And she didn't kiss you good night. My girl likes me, tho'."

Jamie wasn't paying attention to his brother. His gaze was focused on the laptop computer sitting on his desk. "Hey, Joey, we c'n e-mail Danny!" He stumbled across the room to the desk and somehow managed to get the e-mail program running.

... ... ...  
>To: Danny Reagan<br>From: Jamie Reagan  
>Subject:<p>

Joe s Mopey and Im Dopey and we thik youre Grummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Grumpy. That what Dopey was tryping to type. Trying to trype. Whatevr.

Joe  
>... ... ...<p>

Joe hit the send key, then collapsed next to his brother on the floor. "Danny's gonna be grumpy," he told Jamie.

"He a'ready is. Grumpy." Jamie slurred. A few minutes later, the computer let out a ding indicating a new e-mail had arrived. Jamie pulled himself to his knees. "Hey, look, Danny wrote back. Look, Joe."

"Did y' hear my phone ring? Thought I heard it." Joe drug himself to a kneeling position and tried to focus on the computer screen.

... ... ...  
>To: BabyBrother; Det. Joe<br>From: Daniel Reagan  
>Subject: Re:<p>

Drunk. That's what you both are. Stay away from the computer until you sober up or I'll tell Erin that you ditched her party to get drunk in Boston.

Big Brother Danny  
>... ... ...<p>

"Tol' you," Joe slurred after he read Danny's message. "Grumpy."

"Joseph! Jameson!" Angela rushed out of the bedroom, Joe's cell phone clutched in her hand, followed by Sydney. "You two give me that computer. No more contacting your brother until tomorrow."

Jamie watched as Sydney grabbed up the computer and stalked off to his apartment's bedroom, with Angie following close behind. "Uh-oh, Jo-oh. Now they're both mad."

"Prob'ly should be. Because 'm drunk, an' you are too." Joe crawled across the room and leaned back against the sofa. "Think I'm gonna take a nap."

Jamie joined his brother. "Think I will too."

"Let's not do this ag'in, okay?"

"'kay," Jamie mumbled in agreement. As he drifted off to sleep, he felt his brother's arm drape across his shoulders.

"Because you won't be able to get drunk like this once you become an NYPD officer," Joe whispered in his baby brother's ear.


	5. Chapter 5 - November 2008

**Chapter 5 – November 2008**

**NOVEMBER 6, 2008**

"Joe! Won 1st case..." Jamie Reagan texted to his brother.

"Great! Talk ltr?" Joe texted back a few minutes later.

Jamie looked down at the papers on his desk. The judge's order dismissing the plaintiff's claims against Baker's client sat on top. "Great. Right," he muttered. Of course, Joe didn't know the details and would think his little brother winning a case was good news.

He'd won the case, but it was a case they shouldn't have won, if there was any justice to be had from the civil courts. The plaintiff, a factory worker, had his truck repossessed by Baker's auto-finance company client for missing a payment. But the guy had made the payment; it was his bank which had screwed it up. And now the poor guy had no truck and a messed-up credit rating to boot. All of which could have been avoided if Baker's client had been a little more understanding and tried to resolve the situation instead of going straight to repossession.

"Reagan! Congrats on the big win!" Mark Dennon, the associate Jamie had worked under on the case, popped into his office. "Hey, you don't look as thrilled as you should be."

"Why should I be happy? Our client acted stupidly, the plaintiff did nothing wrong, but he's getting the short end here. He's out a bunch of money for nothing. You heard him say he can't afford to re-file his case and go after the bank."

"Not our problem, Reagan. Our job is to represent our client to the best of our ability. The plaintiff's job is to find an adequate counsel to represent him. Not our fault he chose a third-tier reject as his lawyer. Not our fault that his bad lawyer sued the wrong party."

"It's not right. Where's the justice in this outcome?"

"Reagan. Listen to you. All that noble family heritage leaking out." Dennon sat down on the edge of his desk. "It's not about justice. Like I said, it's about representing our client. He pays us good money to protect his interests in court. We protect his ass, and in return, he gives us nice, fat checks."

"And the only people who win are the attorneys on both sides. The plaintiff is out legal fees that he can't afford, and our client is out legal fees also. The difference is that our client can afford what it costs to fight in court."

"See, there's some justice for you. We take the client's money and put it in your pocket. After that, you can go donate to Legal Aid. Buy all the justice you want that away."

"Doesn't help this guy. Or any of the other 'little guys' who don't have the money to fight our clients in court."

"Hey, if you want to help the little guy, go hang out a shingle as a sole practitioner. Be the attorney for the unwashed masses. Or go work for Legal Aid yourself. We're a big law firm, we charge big rates, and we help clients with big pockets stay that way. If that's not what you want, maybe you should step aside and make room for someone who does." With that, Dennon stood up. "I was going to ask you to go out for drinks with the guys to celebrate, but I can tell you're not in the mood. Why don't you head home for the day?" Dennon suggested before he headed out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

Jamie glared at the closed door. He picked up the court order and angrily threw it on the floor, then ground his shoe on top of it until every page was a crumpled, dirty mess. "I hate this job," he grumbled. He knew he hadn't been happy at the law firm, really, since the first day. But he'd tried so hard to convince himself that the dissatisfaction was merely a result of the drudge work that all clerks had to do; that he'd enjoy the practice of law as much as he enjoyed law school once he got to the point of handling real cases. Clearly, that wasn't going to happen. He looked up at the ceiling. "God, where do I go from here?"

When God didn't provide an immediate answer, Jamie gathered his coat and walked out of the building. Dennon _had_ told him to go home, after all. He walked aimlessly down the street for a few blocks, then almost unconsciously found himself headed for a waterfront park on the Charles River. Water had always helped him think, probably because of the fishing trips to the piers with his father and brothers. Brother, really. It had been Joe and him with Dad on most of those fishing excursions; Danny didn't have the patience to wait for fish to bite. He sat down on a bench overlooking the river, unaware of the chill in the late fall air as he tried to gather his thoughts. _Where do I go from here?_

His phone ringing interrupted his pondering. He scooped it up. "Joe, hi," he said.

"Hello, hot shot. So you won your first case?"

"Yeah," Jamie sighed through chattering teeth.

"You don't sound happy about it. But you do sound cold," Joe commented.

"I'm not happy. The wrong side won." Jamie shivered, finally feeling the chill. "And I guess I am cold."

"Let me guess. You needed to think, so you walked down to the nearest river? And you're standing there freezing your ass off while you do your thinking."

"I'm not standing here freezing my ass off," Jamie retorted.

"What, are you sitting instead?"

"Maybe," Jamie snickered around more chattering.

"Smart-ass, they have nice, warm coffee shops where you can sit and think. Go find one before you give yourself pneumonia."

"Joe, can we talk for a few minutes first? Then I promise I'll go warm up."

Jamie could almost hear Joe settling in. "Okay, Jamie. What's wrong?"

The whole story quickly spilled out, ending with Dennon's comment that he should step aside. Joe's response shocked Jamie.

"Maybe Dennon's right. Maybe a big law firm isn't the place for you."

"Joey, but that's what I've been working toward for almost three years."

"Kiddo, you have to find a job right for you. Look at Erin," Joe argued. "She went to law school, same as you, and she's happily working at the DA's office. You could follow her footsteps there. And nothing says you have to be an attorney if it's not the right fit. There are plenty of other careers out there for a smart kid like you. You could do anything you set your mind to."

"I've got to think of something. Because this job sucks. I helped our client screw over some poor guy when all he did wrong was trust his bank."

"So, what can you do to make it right?" Joe asked.

"Nothing! I represent Baker's client, and they won. It's over and done, as far as Baker is concerned."

"I didn't ask what Baker could do, I asked what _you_ could do."

"Joey, I can't do anything! There's a ton of ethics rules about representing clients and conflicts of interest. If I try to do anything to help the plaintiff, it'll be an ethics violation. I'd never work as an attorney if they found out. I'd never even get licensed anywhere."

"So your attorney ethical code says it's wrong. What does your moral code say you should do?" Joe asked pointedly. "And it sounds like you don't want to work as an attorney anyway."

"Yeah," Jamie agreed quietly, even as he began seeing a path forward. Jamie Reagan, law clerk at Baker, couldn't help the guy, but an anonymous law student maybe could do a little research and send the plaintiff a few suggestions for how to proceed, along with a referral to the law school's low-cost legal clinic. "Joe, I think I know what I can do. I gotta go."

"Go get that coffee first, you silly popsicle," Jamie heard Joe call as he disconnected the call.

* * *

><p><strong>NOVEMBER 14, 2008<strong>

"Mom, I hope you'll understand," Jamie told the recently-installed gravestone as he knelt in the grass in front of his mother's grave. He fidgeted with the flowers he'd brought with him before laying the bouquet against the stone's base. "I tried to make law work. I really did, but it's just not what I want to do with my life." He swiped at tears before they had a chance to fall. "I know you wanted me to be a lawyer like Erin, and I thought it was what I wanted, but…" Jamie swallowed hard. "It's not the right career for me. I'm sorry, Mom. I'm leaving Harvard. I'm going to apply to the police academy…"

"Jamie? What are you doing here?"

Jamie spun around at the sound of a voice behind him. "Joe!" He quickly grabbed up the NYPD application package he'd picked up an hour earlier and held it behind his back.

Joe moved to hug his baby brother, and snagged the envelope from Jamie's hand. "What are you doing here? And what's this?"

Jamie looked around the cemetery, then finally turned his attention to his brother. "I needed to talk to Mom, and I think you know what that is," he snapped, angry that he'd been caught.

"It looks like an application for the NYPD. But I don't know what you're doing with it, Harvard."

Jamie glared at his brother. "Stop calling me that. I'm quitting Harvard and applying to the police academy. I'm not cut out to be a lawyer. It's just not right for me."

Joe sat down on a nearby bench and motioned for Jamie to join him. "Does this have anything to do with what happened last week? That case you told me about?"

Jamie nodded. "Some. But that was just the final straw. It's been building up for two years."

"You're sure about this."

Jamie nodded again. "I'm sure."

"Have you thought about what you'd be giving up?" Joe asked.

"Twelve to sixteen hours a day at a desk deep inside some office tower with hyper-competitive coworkers who would stab you in the back if it would get them closer to the top, pushing meaningless papers from one stack to another? Yeah, I've thought about it," Jamie replied.

"Replace 'desk in office tower' with 'seat in patrol car' and 'coworkers' with 'criminals' and you've described the life of a street cop."

"Except street cops do a lot more than push papers around a desk," Jamie argued.

Joe smiled. "Okay. Replace 'push papers around a desk' with 'push suspects around an interrogation room,' and you've got Danny's interpretation of his detective job."

Jamie managed a small laugh. "He doesn't do that all the time, does he?"

"Nah. He's usually good at knowing where that line is and not crossing it. Usually. But that's a whole different issue. Have you thought about the salary difference?" Joe asked.

"About how much money I'd be giving up? Yes, I've thought about that. Money isn't everything."

Joe looked down at the envelope he still held in his hands. "You know it's not going to be an easy road, with Dad being Commissioner now. That's going to cause you some extra complications Danny and I didn't have to face, both at the Academy and on the job."

"I'm not planning on spreading the word that I'm related to the Commissioner. Reagan isn't that uncommon a name. People might not figure it out." Jamie argued.

"Not that common a name either. And don't underestimate scuttlebutt. Everyone will know by the end of your first day."

"I'll just have to work harder then. Earn my own way."

"Or you could do what Danny did and claim you're related to the former President, not the Commissioner."

"Danny did what? When?" Jamie asked.

"High school, when Grandpop was the Chief. Danny got caught drinking with some friends in the park and tried to prevent Dad from finding out by claiming to be President Reagan's illegitimate son. You'll have to ask Gradpop for the whole story."

"I'm guessing it didn't work."

"Nope. Not with this family. Nothing gets by them," Joe said. "And on that subject, you know you're going to have to tell the rest of the family about this decision and get past their objections."

"I'm a grown man. I can do what I want to with my life. They'll have to accept my decision."

Joe handed the packet back to his brother. "Kid, I'm proud of you. It's about time you realized you'd make a great cop. I'll support you a hundred and ten percent on one condition."

"What's that?"

"Finish law school first. You're so close – over two thirds of the way there. You get yourself back to Harvard, finish up this year, and then I'll stand behind when you tell the family."

"Really?" Jamie felt tears welling up again, much to his embarrassment.

"Yup, little brother. I'll be right behind you, using you as a shield. Because you've got to know the fireworks are going to fly when you make this announcement."

Jamie laughed. "I kind of figured that out. Who do you think will be the hardest to win over?"

"Danny," Joe replied right away. "He's such a worrywart, even worse than Dad, plus he thinks he always right just because he's a few years older. He gives me a hard time every now and then if I don't do things his way. Dad will be a tough sell, also. He and Mom thought they had you safely tucked away in a legal career. Erin won't be too happy, either; she worries almost as much as Danny. Also, I think she wanted another lawyer in the family so she wouldn't be so outnumbered. Grandpop will be the easiest, so I'd go to him first."

"Thanks for the advice." Jamie looked over at their mother's gravestone.

Joe followed Jamie's stare. "But first, you've got to convince yourself that Mom would want you to choose the career that's right for you."

"I miss her so much," Jamie choked out. "Some days I almost forget she's gone, then something like this comes up and I want to get her opinion, and I try to pick up the phone to call and realize I can't…"

Joe wrapped one arm around his brother. "I know. It's harder for you, not being here with the rest of us. We've been dealing with it daily, so we've been able to move forward better. It'll get easier, eventually."

The two Reagans sat in silence for a few minutes, until Jamie picked up the application package again. "You know who else I've got to tell? Sydney."

"Your relationship's progressed to that level?" Joe asked. "Didn't know you two were so serious that you have to run future plans by her."

"Well, I haven't asked her to marry me yet, if that's what you mean," Jamie said, even as he felt his cheeks warming.

Joe noticed the redness creeping across his brother face. "Oh, it's progressed to THAT level," he teased.

"Shut up," Jamie muttered.

"My baby brother, all grown up and fornicating with his girlfriend." Joe swiped at imaginary tears.

"Shut up, you big hypocrite. You're living with your girlfriend most of the time."

Joe reached over and fluffed Jamie's hair. "Well, I'd definitely tell Sydney before you do pop the question," Joe advised. "She needs to know what she's saying yes to."

Jamie nodded. "I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right. I'm your big brother. I'm always right." Joe stood up and extended a hand down to Jamie. "Welcome to the job, kid." He snapped off a quick salute. "Now, how about we head over to the house for dinner? But first, we need to come up with a reason that you're in town. How about we tell them you wanted to share your birthday with us?"

"Joe, my birthday's not until next month."

"So we'll tell them you forgot when your birthday was."

"How about 'early Thanksgiving'? Syd wants me to spend Thanksgiving with her family in Connecticut."

Joe glanced at his brother. "You two _are_ getting serious. And Grandpop's not going to be happy," he commented. "Whatever reason we give, I'm sure everyone will be happy to see you, even if it's just overnight. Because you've got classes to get back to, right?"

"Right." Jamie smiled, feeling like a huge weight had lifted off his shoulders, now that he had a plan to move toward his new career goal. "Joe, you never told me why you were here."

Joe's face suddenly took a much more serious look. "Same as you. Wanted to talk some stuff over with Mom."

"If you need a listening ear, I'm available," Jamie offered.

It was Joe's turn to stare across the cemetery. "I'm looking into something going on in the police department. Some real bad stuff. I want to go to Dad about it, but I've been asked not to, and I don't know how much Dad's involved."

"Joe, you know Dad. He's not involved with anything illegal. You know that." Jamie argued.

"Yeah, I do. I guess I just needed to hear someone say it out loud. You start investigating your fellow cops, things get confusing in a hurry."

"And, Joe, if he knows about it and hasn't acted, it's because he doesn't have the proof to act. He can't just act on rumors; he has to have some pretty substantial proof before he destroys someone's career." Jamie argued.

"Which leaves the possibility that he doesn't know. Which means some very powerful people on the force are keeping some very big secrets from him."

Jamie didn't respond right away. "Joey, you've got to be careful. You don't want to make the wrong people mad at you."

Joe wrapped an arm around his brother's slender shoulders. "I know, kid. But on the positive side, I should have the department all cleaned up by the time you graduate from the Academy."

"Hey, if you leave something for me to do, I'd be happy to help out," Jamie joked.

"Right, kid. You'll be much too busy being a rookie street cop to get caught up in some crazy investigation," Joe teased back. "Come on, let's get home for dinner."


	6. Chapter 6 - Holidays 2008

**Chapter 6 – Holidays 2008**

**NOVEMBER 28, 2008 – Thanksgiving**

"Ms. Davenport, this cranberry sauce is delicious," Jamie commented, mostly as a way to break the uncomfortable silence at Sydney's family Thanksgiving dinner. It was a true statement. The sauce was good, although not as good as his grandfather's. God, how he wished he was at home with his family in Bay Ridge instead of at his girlfriend's estate in Connecticut.

"I will be sure to let our cook, Marta, know when she comes in tomorrow," Sydney's mother replied, and then silence resumed around the table.

Jamie again wished he'd gone to his own home for Thanksgiving, where his comment would have resulted in a lively discussion about the merits of cranberry sauce vs. cranberry-orange relish, or some explanation to Sean or Jack about why cranberries were a part of Thanksgiving dinner.

An hour later, the interminable dinner was finally over, and the Davenport family had divided up for after-dinner activities; the men to the den to watch football and smoke cigars and the women to the front parlor for some other activity. Jamie sighed quietly. Apparently, he wouldn't be spending any time with his girlfriend today, which had been the whole reason for spending Thanksgiving with her family. That, and he wouldn't have to face the holiday without his mother if he wasn't at home.

Jamie glanced at the TV again, where a football game played on between two teams he didn't care about. _Who knew watching football could be so dull?_ Sydney's father, grandfather, brother and uncle were focusing their attention on the television, interrupted only by quiet chatting about the course of play, or the team's chances. He couldn't help but compare this game to his family's much louder celebrations. The room would be echoing with chants of _Jets! Jets! Jets!_ and argumentative discussions of the referee's calls. And they'd definitely spend some time outside actually playing football. And later on, when the adults retreated to the study, the air would be filled with the familiar smells of Scotch and his father's cigars, not the stinky cigars Sydney's grandfather apparently liked. He coughed as a waft of that horrid smoke drifted across his nostrils.

"Jameson?"

Jamie coughed again. "Sorry. I need to use the…" He gestured toward the bathroom, then quickly headed out of the room.

As soon as the bathroom door was closed behind him, he grabbed his phone out of his pocket and dialed his brother's number.

"Hey, little bro!" Joe greeted him.

"Hi, Joe," he whispered."

"What's up?" Joe whispered back. "Why the secrecy?"

Jamie turned on the sink, hoping the water would hide their voices. "Syd's father doesn't approve of phone calls interrupting family events," he said quietly. "I'm in the bathroom."

"Ah, ze old wasser in ze sink trick," Joe said in his best evil spy accent.

"Yeah, well. Oldie but goodie. What's up?"

"Dinner's over, Linda, Nicki and Dad are cleaning up, Danny and Sean are napping and Erin and Grandpop are trying to teach Angie and Jack how to toss a football."

Jamie snickered. "How's that going?"

"Jack's pretty good. Angie… isn't. She's a better spectator than a player. What's happening up there?"

"Nothing! You wouldn't think watching football could be boring, but they've managed to make it that way! I miss you guys. Coming to Syd's for Thanksgiving was a bad idea."

"We missed you, too. At least, I did," Joe replied. "Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh what?" Jamie heard noises that sounded like the back door opening and closing, Joe calling to their grandfather, more shuffling, and Joe asking someone if they were okay. "Joey, what's happening? Joey?"

"Jamie?" Joe suddenly was back on the line. "If you're looking for a reason to come home, tell Syd's family that there's a family emergency. Tell them your grandfather fell down and might have broken something."

"Joey, what happened? Is Grandpop okay?"

"Hang on a minute."

"Joey, I'm not going to make up a story just to get out of here. What happened?"

"It's not made up. Grandpop tried to catch a badly-thrown pass from Jack, and he fell…"

"Is he okay?"

"I'd say so, but I'm not a doctor or anything."

"You think he might have broken a leg?"

"It's possible. A leg, or maybe a finger. Again, not a doctor. And you never can tell with the elderly and infirm. You should probably get back home."

"I'm gonna tell Grandpop you called him that." Jamie forced down a laugh. "But you're right. I probably should come home. Just in case. See you in a few?"

"As soon as you can get here, kiddo."

Jamie ended the phone call with his brother and went in search of his girlfriend, trying to force a somber expression on to his face. He found her in the formal living room, playing some card game with her mother and other family. He gestured for her to join him at the doorway.

"Jamie, are you okay? You look worried," she asked.

Jamie nodded. "My brother just called. My grandfather was playing football with the kids and fell. He might have broken a leg. I need to get back home."

"Of course, Jamie. Do you want me to come with you?"

Sydney's concern almost made him feel guilty about exaggerating his grandfather's injuries. But he really did need to get back home. He really missed his family. "No. I don't want to spoil your holiday. Thanks for understanding."

Jamie quickly packed his bag, thanked Sydney's family for their hospitality, and set out for the drive back to Bay Ridge. A few hours later, he arrived back home. Joe and an upset-looking Jack met him at the door. "Hey, Joe! Hey, Jack-Jack! What's up?"

"I hurt Grandpop." Jack tried to keep back tears.

"Gramps really did break something. His thumb. The family is taking him to the clinic to get it looked at. And this little guy's upset because he thinks it's his fault. I've tried to explain to him that accidents happen. Like when you broke my arm playing basketball, when I was ten."

"Hey, wait," Jamie started arguing. "Two things: First, I was barely four, and too little to play basketball. And second, you broke your own arm, trying to dunk the basketball from the hood of Dad's car."

"You messed up my landing. And that's not what you said back then, lawyer boy. 'I broked Joey.' Those were your exact words. And I seem to remember lots of sobbing and wailing."

"Really?" Jack looked up at his uncle.

"God, does nothing get forgotten in this family?" Jamie asked rhetorically. He squatted down in front of his nephew. "Jack, I was upset because Uncle Joe was hurt and I thought it was my fault and that he'd be mad at me. But he wasn't, because he knew it was an accident. Just like Grandpop's not mad at you. He knows accidents happen in sports. So no more feeling bad about it, okay?"

"'kay," Jack agreed.

"How about we go watch a football game, and eat some leftovers? I could go for some home cooked food and a beer." Jamie headed for the kitchen.

Joe sent Jack back to the family room and followed Jamie into the kitchen. He watched as his brother assembled a large plate of food. "Syd's family didn't feed you?"

"Not the same," Jamie replied around a bite of turkey.

Joe leaned against the counter. "How is you extracurricular project coming? The one you picked up a few weeks ago?"

Jamie realized what Joe was talking about and smiled. His NYPD application. "I'm getting things organized. Law school's been keeping me busy. Getting toward the end of the semester."

"Well, if you need any help, I'm always available. Just call me."

* * *

><p><strong>DECEMBER 8, 2008<strong>

Jamie Reagan entered his apartment and slammed the door closed behind him. The weather outside today was typical early December in New England: cold, windy, rainy; just not cold enough for the icy rain to turn to snow. Altogether miserable, just like his mood today. He dropped his backpack to the floor by the door. He knew he should work on studying for final exams which began tomorrow; he wouldn't have time later tonight because Sydney was taking him out for a birthday dinner, but he couldn't work up any enthusiasm for either the studying or the dinner.

He glared hatefully at the backpack full of books and notes waiting to be studied. He hated his law classes. All full of theory and discussion of how things ought to be. And his job at Baker wasn't much better. Since that disastrous meeting after his 'win' last month, Denton hadn't been giving him good assignments. He was back to summarizing depositions and indexing discovery. Most days, he just wanted to walk away from all of it – job, Harvard, Boston – and go back where he belonged. New York, and the NYPD.

"Why am I even bothering with this?" he asked himself aloud. But he knew the answer. Because his mother had planned for him to be a lawyer since who-knew-when. But she was gone now; had been for three months. Jamie swiped at the moisture running down his face and tried to pretend it was all rainwater. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. Why did she have to die three months before his twenty-sixth birthday, and nine months before he would graduate from law school and fulfill her dream for him? Why was he staying in law school without her there? He knew that answer also. Because he'd promised Joe he'd finish what he'd started.

Jamie trudged over to his computer and opened the e-mail program. Maybe there would be something in the e-mail to cheer him up – some silly joke e-mail from a friend or his siblings. He looked at the list of unread messages. Danny had sent a short "Happy B-day" message (no text, just the subject line), and Erin had sent a link to a birthday e-card. And Joe had sent a message with a file attached. He opened that message.

... ... ...  
>To: Jamie Reagan<br>From: Joe Reagan  
>Subject: Birthday, Boy!<p>

Hey, kiddo. Happy Birthday! I've attached a few presents for you. Open with care. Paper copy will be available whenever you want to pick it up. Maybe in a few weeks when you'll be here for Christmas.

Joey  
>... ... ...<p>

Jamie clicked open the first attachment. It appeared to be a letter, addressed to the NYPD. He started reading the text.

_Dear Selection Committee, _it began. _My baby brother is applying to be an NYPD cop. You should select him. He's a nice guy. And smart. Lots o' smarts. Also, he looks good in the uniform. See below._

Jamie scrolled down and burst out laughing. Joe had pasted in a picture of him from Halloween, in that cheesy costume uniform.

_You see what I mean? The ladies will be too busy staring at him to commit any crimes. Think of the money you'll save!_

_Sincerely, _

_Joey Reagan_

_P.S. Jamie, open the other one now._

Jamie followed his brother's instructions. The second letter started out the same way, _Dear Selection Committee_, but this one was serious. Joe spent the better part of the page detailing exactly why his little brother would make an excellent addition to the NYPD. Dedication. Loyalty. Honesty. Intelligence. Family history of service. Jamie quickly saved and printed that letter and put the printout in his NYPD application file. Then he wrote his brother.

... ... ...  
>To: Joe Reagan<br>From: Jamie Reagan  
>Subject: Re: Birthday, Boy!<p>

Thanks you, thank you, thank you. Are you sure I shouldn't use the first letter?

See you soon. Gotta study for those final exams that start tomorrow.

Jamie  
>... ... ...<p>

He looked at the NYPD application sitting on his desk. Maybe it was time to start working on that thing. The task of completing the application paperwork seemed much more appealing than the studying he needed to do for tomorrow's exams.

* * *

><p><strong>DECEMBER 24, 2008 – Christmas Eve<strong>

"Hello, family," Jamie called as he opened the front door of his family home in Bay Ridge.

Henry stepped out of the dining room. "There's my favorite Harvard-educated grandson!

"You only Harvard-educated grandson, you mean," Jamie clarified as he hugged his grandfather.

"My early Christmas present has arrived!" Joe walked into the entry hall and greeted his little brother with a hug and a ribbon bow from the gift-wrap box. He stuck the bow on top of his brother's head.

Jamie pulled at the bow but decided to leave it in place when it tugged at hairs. "Are you ever going to stop calling me that?" he asked his brother.

"Nope. Never. Because you were my best Christmas present ever. Hello, Syd."

"Hello, Joe," Sydney responded. "Why did you call Jamie your 'early Christmas present'? It's Christmas Eve. It's not really early for Christmas presents."

"Yeah, Uncle Joe, why do you call Uncle Jamie that?" Sean asked as he came up behind his uncle.

"Yes, Uncle Joe, tell us why you call Uncle Jamie that," Danny chipped in, smirking.

"Geez, can I at least get my coat off before the family humiliation begins?" Jamie faked annoyance with his brothers. Those stories were just the price of spending time with family, and he gladly pay that price any day of the year.

"Sure. You know where the coats go. We'll be in the family room."

Sydney followed Jamie to the coat closet. "Your grandfather looks very healthy for an older man who broke his leg a month ago."

Jamie winced. "Yeah. It turns out he broke his thumb, not his leg. I misunderstood what Joe said and didn't find out until I'd got back here," he tried to explain as he hung their coats in the closet.

Joe came up behind his brother and Sydney and placed hands on each of their shoulders. "Sydney, don't be mad at Jamie. I may have overstated Grandpop's injury a little."

"I'm not angry, Jamie. I understand how important your family is to you. Just don't do it again, okay? You can always be honest with me."

"Okay, Syd," Jamie agreed. He leaned in to quickly kiss his girlfriend.

Joe cleared his throat. "Whenever you two turtle doves are done, I've got a story to tell."

"Whatever. You could skip it."

"No way, baby brother. It's a good Christmas-y story."

"And I want to hear it," Sydney added.

Jamie rolled his eyes, but he followed his older brother to the family room where the rest of the family had already gathered, and sat down beside Joe on the couch.

"Syd and Sean, you wanted to know why I call Jamie my early Christmas present?" Joe began. "Well, it started back when I was your age, Sean. I wanted a little brother more than anything. A little sister would have been okay also..."

"No. No little sisters," Jack interrupted.

"That's right, son. Little sisters are the _worst_." Danny elbowed Erin, and she pinched him in response.

"See, I was the only one without a younger sibling. Danny had Erin, and Erin had me, but I didn't have anyone," Joe continued. "My birthday was coming up soon, so whenever anyone asked me what I wanted, I told them a little brother. Danny and Erin tried to convince me that little brother weren't worth the hassle; Dad told me he'd see what he could do but that he couldn't make any guarantees …"

Jamie tried not to laugh as he realized what his father had been saying.

"… and Mom told me that only God could decide if our family would get a new baby. And, in any case, I didn't get a new sibling for my birthday. So, since God was the one responsible for giving babies to families, I asked him to give our family one more baby, so I could have a little brother."

"He asked God, and Jesus, and the Virgin Mary, and Saint Michael, and lots of random saints," Danny added. "I think you were working your way through the _Catholic Child's Big Book of Saints_, Joe."

"Well, it worked. A few months after my birthday, Mom started getting rounder and rounder, and Danny told me that's what happens before a new sibling shows up. And then, a few weeks before Christmas, Mom and Dad go off to the hospital and come home with little baby brother Jamie. My early Christmas present." Joe wrapped an arm around Jamie's shoulders and squeezed him.

"Oh, Joe. That's so sweet," Sydney commented.

"My very own little baby brother to love and protect and hold and play with."

"And annoy the heck out of," Jamie griped.

"That too. Best part of having a little brother." Joe ruffled Jamie's hair, dislodging the bow he'd stuck there earlier, along with a few hairs.

"Hey, do you guys remember what Mom always made Joe do at Christmas after he told the story of Jamie's birth?" Danny asked.

"He had to read the story of Jesus' birth from that old pop-up nativity book," Jamie recalled. "I wonder if that book's still around?"

Frank picked up the book in question from the fireplace mantle. _Mary, we miss you. But our children are keeping you here in spirit._ He handed the book to Joe. "Here you go. You have just enough time to read it before we need to leave for Christmas Eve Mass."

"Sean, Jack, come sit with us," Joe ordered. Jack squeezed onto the couch beside Joe, and Sean scrambled into Jamie's lap. Joe opened the book and pictures of the Virgin Mary and an angel unfolded from the pages. "Many years ago in the town of Nazareth, a young woman named Mary was visited by an Angel. His name was Gabriel, and he had a message for Mary. He told her she had been chosen to have a very special baby. The baby would be God's son. His name would be Jesus."

Joe turned the page, and pictures of Mary riding a donkey led by Joseph popped up. "Now, it came to pass that the Governor called for a census of the land. Mary travelled with Joseph to his hometown of Bethlehem…" Joe reached for the next page.

Jack stopped Joe from turning the page. "Uncle Joe, why is the donkey's head taped on and all wrinkly?"

Jamie suppressed a groan. Behind them, Danny snickered.

"Well, Jack, that's your Uncle Jamie's fault," Joe explained. "It seems he wanted to find out what donkey tasted like."


	7. Chapter 7 - Winter & Spring 2009

**Chapter 7 – Winter & Spring 2009**

**JANUARY 1, 2009**

"H'llo?" Jamie slurred into his telephone.

"Happy New Year, kiddo!" Joe greeted his younger brother.

"Huh? Joe? Why are you calling so late? I was sleeping." Jamie stood up and headed for the hallway of his apartment so he wouldn't wake his sleeping girlfriend.

Joe laughed. "Hey, old man, it's only one a.m. on New Years Day. What's wrong with you?"

Jamie yawned. "It took until midnight to finish moving Syd's stuff into my apartment. Girls have too much stuff. I'm tired out."

"Whoa! Moving Syd's stuff in? When did that happen?"

"Tonight. I just _told_ you that," Jamie snipped tiredly.

"Not the moving stuff part. When did you two decide to move in together?"

Jamie dropped onto his sofa. "Thought I told you. A few months ago. Her landlord decided to stop renting out apartments and terminated all the leases effective yesterday. It didn't make sense for her to start a new yearlong lease, since law school's ending in May, so she moved in here. Besides…"

"She was there most of the time anyway?"

"Yeah. Just like you and Angie."

"Difference being that Angie and I are grown-ups, with jobs and everything. Have you thought about what you're going to do if this playing house results in you knocking up your girlfriend?"

"Joey!" Jamie protested as he felt his cheeks warming. There were just some topics he didn't want to discuss with his brother. His love life topped that list.

Joe laughed. "And now my little Catholic choirboy brother is getting all embarrassed, aren't you?"

"Not saying," Jamie grumbled. "But, to answer your question, I'd ask her to marry me. Like I plan to do soon anyway."

"Joe?" he asked when his comment was met with silence.

"Wow, kiddo. Guess I'd better hurry up and ask my girl, or we're going to get out of order."

"Yeah, when are you going to ask Angie?" Jamie asked. "You've been together long enough."

"It's not the right time right now. I have to get something settled first."

"That thing you're looking into," Jamie deduced.

"That thing." Joe confirmed. "But as soon as I do, we can have a joint wedding. So long as Angie and I get to say our vows first."

"Geez, Joey. I'm not even engaged yet, and you've already got me tied down. Besides, I don't think our girlfriends have the same ideas about weddings. Syd's family is Connecticut old money and Angie's is…"

"Down-home thrifty Yankees from Maine," Joe added. "Yeah, that might not be a good combination."

"Hope they can get along, at least."

"We'll figure that out. They seemed to do okay at Halloween, didn't they?"

"Partly because we gave them a common enemy."

Joe laughed. "The drunk duo. Not doing that again. Hangovers suck."

"But, in any case, I'm not planning on asking Syd just yet. It's not like I can really afford the kind of ring she would want."

"God laughs at you when you're busy making plans, to quote Erin," Joe teased. "Especially when you're not playing by His rules."

"Hypocrite," Jamie muttered. "And that's not exactly how that saying goes."

"Close enough. But if you end up needing it, you should ask Dad for Grandmother's ring."

"Joe, no, you're my big brother. You should have that for Angie."

"You should have it. It's more Sydney's style. Ang doesn't go for flashy jewelry." Joe paused for a minute. "Can't believe I'm having this conversation with you. My little baby brother, all grown up."

"About time you figured that out," Jamie teased. "Got my own apartment and everything. Well, I _had_ my own apartment. Now it's filled with Syd's stuff…"

"Hang on." Joe's voice suddenly went quiet as he held a brief conversation with someone at his location. "Hey, kiddo, I gotta get back to work. The life of a cop. Controlling the Times Square crowd while you attorneys sleep. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year, Joe." Jamie hung up the phone with the unsettling thought that he'd give anything to be standing in Times Square in an NYPD uniform, helping his brother with controlling that crowd.

* * *

><p><strong>FEBRUARY 12, 2009<strong>

Jamie laid his razor down on the bathroom counter and looked at his image in the mirror. He struck his best 'up and coming lawyer' pose, but today, it just didn't connect. Maybe it would look more convincing after he got dressed. Unbidden, the words from a song in the Disney movie Sydney's nieces had been watching last night when he and Syd had babysat for her sister popped into his mind. "_Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me, When will my reflection show, Who I am inside?" _

_Who is that boy I see?_ Jamie reached into the drawer and picked up the blue dry erase marker he used to write important law-school notes on the mirror. _When will my reflection show, who I am inside? _Holding his arm straight out, he sketched an NYPD police hat and uniform shirt around his image in the mirror. He colored in the hat and shirt, leaving small areas uncolored for the insignia on the hat and a shield on the shirt.

_Who I am inside…_ Jamie looked at his newly-decorated reflection. This time, it felt right. More right than the 'lawyer Jamie' reflection he'd been trying to see for three years. He smiled and put down the marker. He'd work on finishing his NYPD application this evening. He glanced down at his watch. Crap! He was going to be late for class if he didn't get dressed and out the door ASAP.

He hadn't given his bathroom artwork another thought until he walked back into his apartment twelve hours later to find Sydney sitting on the couch, her posture tense, her arms crossed across her chest.

"Is there something you want to tell me, Jamie?" Icicles dripped from her voice.

He stopped in his tracks, trying to think of what he could have done to make his girlfriend so angry. _It's not her birthday, not Valentine's Day, not any kind of anniversary, and I haven't told her about the career change yet. Oh crap. Crap, crap, crap. The mirror... _He decided to play innocent. Maybe she hadn't seen it and was angry about something else. "About what?"

Sydney stood up and pointed toward the back of the apartment. "Your self-portrait on the mirror."

_Yep, that was it._ He should have taken a minute to erase his masterpiece before running out the door that morning_._ "Syd, you know I've been struggling with law school this whole year," Jamie began.

"We all have. We all want to be done with school and out working. It's part of being a 3L."

"It's a little more than that. I can't convince myself anymore that being an attorney is what I want to do with my life."

"And being a cop is."

"Yes." Jamie tried not to smile at how right that sounded. _Jamie Reagan, cop._

"Jamie, think of all you've invested in this career. Three years of law school. All that money and work. You'd throw all that away merely to follow family tradition?"

"Not just for family tradition. And I'm not throwing it away. I'm just… refocusing."

"What about our plans? Working together for Baker in New York for a few years? Starting our own firm later on? Are you 'refocusing' those also?" Sydney snapped at him. "Because you might have consulted me at some point. Preferably before I turned down Baker's Boston position."

"Syd, those were mostly your plans. I went along with them because they sounded better than any plan I had."

"Just like you went along with your mother's plan for you to be an attorney. You never wanted it at all, did you?" Sydney shouted.

"I did want it," Jamie snapped back. But then he wondered about the truthfulness of that statement. _Had he ever wanted to be a lawyer?_ "I didn't go through four years of undergraduate and almost three years of law school just to make my mother happy. Going to law school was something I wanted to do, at least before…"

"Before she died and you went completely off the rails." Sydney crossed her arms. "And now you're going to throw away everything she wanted for you."

"You don't know what my mother wanted for me." Jamie balled his hands into fists at his side, trying to contain his anger. "Maybe, after someone _you_ love dies, you'll realize that it makes you think about things," he said slowly. "Like what you're doing with your life, and who you want to be, and who you want to be with."

His last words seemed to hang in the air between them like an electric spark. Sydney glared at him in shock. And honestly, he was shocked himself at what he'd said.

"Are you breaking up with me?" Sydney finally asked.

"I don't know. I love you. I thought you loved me. But it looks like you only care about Lawyer Jamie. If you can't love me for who I am and not what job I'm doing, maybe we should break up."

Sydney silently picked up her bookbag and retrieved her coat from the back of the chair. "I'm going to my sister's for tonight. I need to think. I… I'll call you later." She quickly headed out the door.

Jamie walked over to the couch and dropped onto it. He covered his eyes with one arm. "Crap." The fireworks had begun even sooner than Joe had predicted. After staring at the ceiling for a long time, he picked up his cell phone and called his brother. No answer, and he didn't want to leave a voice message. He drug himself off the couch and sat down at his desk to send an email.

... ... ...  
>To: Det. Joe<p>

From: Jamie Reagan

Subject: Ka-Boom!

Hey, Joe, you remember those fireworks we talked about in November? Well, they just started. Sydney found out…  
>... ... ...<p>

An hour later, as Jamie lay on the couch pondering what a mess he'd made of his life, Jamie's phone rang. He scooped it up and looked at the screen. _Joe_. "Hey, big brother," he greeted.

"Hey, kiddo. So, Sydney found out she's dating a wanna-be cop, and not the future attorney of the year? How bad?"

Jamie sighed. "She left. Went to her sister's. Said she'd call me later."

"Buck up, kiddo. At least she said she'll call."

"Yeah. I guess."

"She'll do it. That girl loves you. And it's obvious you love her."

"What if she doesn't call? What if she really can't adjust to the career change?"

"If she doesn't, she wasn't the right girl for you anyway. And we'll find you a new girlfriend back home. One who likes police officers. I'll tell Erin, and she'll get a list of potential candidates all lined up for you."

"Don't tell Erin! God, she'll have me dating every single lady in her office."

"Only the dark-haired, bossy ones. The ones like Sydney and Katie. And Teresa. She knows you type."

"Syd's not bossy!" Jamie jumped in to defend his girlfriend.

"Aw, see, you do love her."

"Shut up," Jamie muttered. His phone beeped, and he glanced at the screen. "Joe, she's calling. What do I say?"

"You love her; this isn't about her; you'll still be in the law, just a different aspect," Joe rushed to get out. "Good luck, kiddo."

"Thanks," Jamie swallowed hard, then quickly switched to Sydney's incoming call. "Hello, Syd."

* * *

><p><strong>APRIL 16, 2009<strong>

Jamie scrolled through the photos he and Sydney had taken at dinner, and chose one to attach to the e-mail he was composing to his brother.

... ... ...  
>To: Det. Joe<br>From: Jamie Reagan  
>Subject: Look What We Did!<p>

Hey, big brother! You need to hurry up and do this too!

Jamie  
>... ... ...<p>

Jamie attached the picture of him and Sydney sitting at a table in their favorite restaurant, Sydney's hand resting prominently on his shoulder with a diamond ring sparkling on her finger. He almost couldn't believe he'd actually asked Syd to marry him, but there was the photographic proof. He almost couldn't believe she'd said yes, after their huge blow-up only a few months earlier, right before Valentine's Day. But they really did love each other and they had manged to patch up their relationship, and Syd had at least resigned herself to his possible career change. He sent the e-mail on its way.

... ... ...  
>To: Jamie Reagan<br>From: Det. Joe  
>Subject: Re: Look What We Did!<p>

Congratulations, little brother. Remember, no getting hitched until Angie and I do. I'm gonna ask her soon.

Joe  
>... ... ...<p>

_Something's wrong._ That was Jamie's first thought as he read Joe's response. He'd expected his brother to call with his congratulations, not reply by e-mail. And Joe didn't seem as enthusiastic as he'd expected. He picked up the phone and called his brother.

"Hello, Jame," Joe answered after a few rings.

"Hey, Joe. You okay?" Jamie asked.

"Can't hide anything from you, future Detective Jamie, can I? Danny and I had a blow-up this evening." Joe explained. "You would think when someone asks you to meet them for drinks after work, they could at least be civil."

"What did Danny do this time?"

"Same old stuff. He wants me off the Warrant Squad. Says it's for hard-luck cases and wash-outs, not for rising stars. Says I should be in Major Cases, like he was. Says I'm wasting what little talent I have."

"Joe, that's just Danny being Danny. You told me that before."

"I guess so. I don't know why he can't treat us with more respect."

"Because we're the baby brothers, remember?"

"And he's the big-shot big brother. Yeah, I know."

"Joey, it seems like Danny is saying some of the same stuff Dad does about Warrant Squad. Why don't you just apply for a transfer? Make everyone happy?"

"I have my reasons," Joe snapped at his little brother. "Sorry. God, I didn't mean that," he immediately apologized. "Hey, do you have your application in yet?"

Jamie winced as he thought about that envelope with his completed NYPD application package, still sitting in his desk drawer. "It's in progress," he fudged. After all of Joe's encouragement and support, he didn't want to tell Joe that he'd started thinking about staying with the law. This last month, as law school drew to a close, he regained some of his interest in his law courses and his job at Baker McKinney. And Joe's reports of his fights with Danny and the occasional remarks Joe made about his 'project' were dampening his enthusiasm for signing up with the NYPD. "Things are kind of busy right now."

"Well, don't wait too long," Joe encouraged. "And, kiddo, congratulations to you and Syd on the engagement."


	8. Chapter 8 - May 2009

**Chapter 8 – May 2009**

**MAY 5, 2009**

"Jameson Henry Reagan," the assistant dean of Harvard Law School intoned. Jamie stood up straighter, then walked out onto the stage. He smiled out at the crowd, hoping one of the cameras flashing was being operated by one of his family members. He crossed the stage and accepted his diploma and a handshake from the dean. A few more steps, and he was leaning down so another assistant dean could drape the purple velvet hood signifying his attainment of a Juris Doctor degree around his neck.

"Jamie!" A voice that sounded like one of his brothers called from the center right of the auditorium, and he stood up and smiled in that direction before walking off the stage and proceeding back to his seat. He'd done it. Graduated from law school. As for what came next… What came next was a reception and then a huge party tonight. He wasn't going to think beyond that right now.

Thirty minutes later, the ceremony ha concluded and all the graduates and their families were gathering in the nearby courtyard. Jamie scanned the crowd for his family while he chatted with Sydney and her family. Finally, he heard Joe's voice, _"There he is!"_ He turned around, just in time to be nearly knocked off his feet by an exuberant hug from his closest brother.

"Congratulations, kiddo," Joe called out. "You did it!"

Danny was right behind him with a much briefer hug, then Erin pulled him into her arms, crying with happiness.

"Erin, lemme go." Jamie worked his way out of her arms.

"Jamie, I'm just so happy for you."

"And that she's not the only lawyer in the family. Isn't that right, Erin?" Danny added.

"Smile for the camera, sibs," Joe gestured toward their grandfather, who was holding a camera.

Henry quickly snapped the photograph, then moved in to shake Jamie's hand. "Congrats, Jameson."

Frank moved in next for a handshake. "I'm proud of you. And I'm sure your mother is also."

A few minutes later, after more conversation between his family any Sydney's family, Joe draped an arm around Jamie's shoulders. "I bet Jamie could use some of that punch. He's probably sweating like a pig in this whole cap and gown getup. Anyone else want some?" Once a few people had accepted his offer, Joe led Jamie away from the family and toward the refreshments table. "So, kid, you remember that promise I made you in November? You ready to cash in on it?"

Jamie smiled. "Not yet. I want to do that back home. In New York."

"You changing your mind? Because that's okay with me if you want to be a lawyer now. Look how happy it's made Erin. This is the happiest I've seen her in months."

"Yeah, what's wrong? Problems at work?"

"John Boyle," Joe said simply.

"You never liked him, did you?"

"There was something about him. But back to you."

"Give me a week or so. I thought I'd made up my mind, but now it's all screwed up. I need to let things settle down from all the excitement of finishing classes and graduating and all of this."

Joe handed his brother two cups of punch. "No hurry. The Academy doesn't start until September. Plenty of time for you to get your head on straight and for me to keep my promise."

* * *

><p><strong>MAY 13, 2009<strong>

Jamie Reagan glanced around the lecture hall at NYU from his seat toward the back of the room. It was day two of the New York Bar exam preparation course and the hall was full of recent law school graduates getting ready to take the Bar exam in a few months. Sydney sat next to him with her friend Dana on her other side, and he had spotted several other Harvard Law grads scattered throughout the room. Maybe they should get together to form a study group. That might make Bar prep more interesting. The lecturer this morning certainly wasn't doing that, standing in front of the group, droning on and on about payment systems; something about when a check was a bad check.

Jamie checked his watch. 10:15. How could it only been 10:15AM? He tried hard to hold in a yawn. It was only ten A.M on the second day, and he had no idea how he was going to make it through another thirty days of the course without losing his mind. It was so damned _boring!_ Jamie sighed. Why had he ever thought he wanted to be a lawyer? He pulled out his cell phone and sent a quick text to Joe. _You coming to dinner Sun? B/c I have an announcement to make. JHR_

Jamie's phone buzzed a few minutes later when Joe replied.

_About time! Of course I'll be there. I promised you I'd stand behind you. JCR_

* * *

><p><strong>MAY 15, 2009<strong>

Jamie looked around his small apartment at the group of people gathered there. He raised his beer. "To the New York Bar exam." Sydney, Dana, Rob, Will and Will's girlfriend Allie raised their bottles into his with a round of clinks.

"I bet Jamie has a head start on the 'bar' exam. He knows where all the good ones are already, since he grew up here," Rob joked.

"Sorry, Robbie. I was in Cambridge by the time I was old enough to drink at bars. I'll have to ask my brothers," Jamie joked back.

Will downed a good portion of his beer. "God, we've only been in BarBri for one week, and I think my head's going to explode. Why does New York law have so many differences from everywhere else?" he griped. "Why didn't I sign up for the Massachusetts bar exam? At least I know something about their laws."

"Because then you couldn't be part of our 'Harvard in NYC' bar exam study group," Jamie replied. "You'd be bored up at Harvard without us." He finished off his beer.

"No more talk about bar exams," Sydney cut in. "This is our time off. We should…"

Pounding on the door, accompanied by shouts of "Jamie, open up! Hurry!" interrupted Sydney's comments. Jamie jumped to his feet and ran to open the door, finding his brother-in-law on the other side. "Jack, what're you doing?" he asked. He finally noticed his sister, standing behind Jack with a distraught expression on her face. "Erin?"

Erin stepped forward and hugged him tightly. "Jamie, its Joe. He was hurt. Dad said it's bad and we should meet him at the hospital."

Jamie felt the blood draining from his face. "Joey? What?"

Jack pushed both of them toward the door. "Erin, Jamie, let's go."

But as fast as Jack drove to the hospital, they didn't get there soon enough. Jamie knew the second he saw his grandfather standing outside the door to the emergency room, waiting to intercept them before they could enter the hospital and see the wall of Blue grieving the death of one of their own. Joe was gone.

Jamie didn't want to hear his grandfather say the words. He pulled himself free of Erin's grip and ran down the sidewalk and around the corner of the hospital building, where he collapsed against the wall, gasping for breath. _This can't be happening. This isn't happening. This is all some Bar-exam-prep-induced nightmare._ "He can't be dead."

Jamie didn't realize he'd said that out loud until Jack Boyle spoke up beside him. "I'm sorry, Jamie."

"No. This isn't real." He couldn't have lost his brother. He couldn't have lost another connection to his family.

Jack's hand came down on his shoulder, and suddenly it_ was_ real. Jamie slid down to his knees, sobbing silently.

Jack squatted down beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Jamie, I'm sorry," he repeated. "Let's go inside. You need your family right now."

"No." Jack was wrong. What he needed right now was Joe, standing beside him, telling him this was all some damned hallucination. But he knew that wasn't going to happen. Joe was gone. Joe wasn't going to tell him anything ever again. "No."

Jack gave Jamie a few minutes, then stood up. "Jamie, let's go inside."

Jamie numbly allowed his brother-in-law to help him to his feet and lead him back toward the emergency room doors. His mind went to all the plans he and Joe had made that weren't going to happen now. Getting married together, maybe. Working in the NYPD together. Informing the family about his decision to join the NYPD together.

Jamie stopped in his tracks. Joe wasn't going to be there to help him tell the family about his changed career plans. Agonized thoughts swirled through his head. How was he going to tell his family alone? Could he even do that to his family now? Maybe he just stay with the law and become an attorney. But then he'd be turning his back on who he really was. But if he was an attorney, his family wouldn't worry about him, and Sydney would be happier. He needed to talk to his big brother and get his advice about what he should do. But he couldn't.

Because Joe was dead.


	9. Epilogue - A Decision Made

**Epilogue  
><strong>

**MAY 18, 2009**

The first person Jamie told about his career change was Henry. Not his grandfather Henry, but a law school classmate named Henry Alvarez. It happened the day they buried Joseph Conor Reagan.

Hours after his brother's burial, Jamie Reagan entered the Manhattan apartment he shared with Sydney and immediately walked over to stare out the window.

"Jamie, can I get you anything?" Sydney asked.

_Every bottle of liquor we have, and something to open them with_, Jamie thought to himself. But he'd promised Joe he wouldn't do that again. Jamie shook his head. "No. I need some time alone." Behind him, he heard Sydney sitting down at the dining table, doing her best to give him privacy in their small studio apartment. She was probably going to start reading up for tomorrow's Bar prep session. He should join her, but what did it matter? He wasn't going to be an attorney, and everyone was supposed to know by now. "Joey," he whispered. "Why?" He swiped at the tears suddenly running down his face with the back of his hand, careful to avoid the cuff of his expensive suit.

That suit. That damn suit. The one he'd bought to be his courtroom suit; the one he was to wear to the first trial he would conduct after he obtained his law license in a few months. Instead, he'd worn it to Joe's funeral. Suddenly, he couldn't stand the feeling of its material against his skin. He quickly stripped out of the suit and changed into jeans and a dark t-shirt. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. For a second, he thought it was Joe looking back at him. They had the same hair color, the same eye color, and the dark t-shirt looked so much like the tees Joe wore… that Joe had worn under his uniform.

Jamie dropped onto the bed as a sob escaped. He'd barely been able to stop crying at random times since Friday night, when Jack and Erin had yanked him away from his Bar study group for the trip to the hospital. But Joe was gone before they got there. Hadn't even made it to the hospital at all, they found out later.

He looked at the crumpled suit lying on the bed beside him. He'd never wear that suit again. Never. It would forever be associated with losing Joe. Wearing it, he'd felt so out of place at his own brother's funeral. The only Reagan or Conor adult male not in blue. The only one in a suit at all, except for cousin Brian, and he was nineteen and impatiently waiting to be old enough to enter the police academy, following his father's footsteps into the Transit Police. And there he was, looking like the soon to be attorney, dressed in his best attorney suit, ditching family tradition to become a hot-shot lawyer.

If only they knew. He was done with the law. Had been for months. He'd respected Joe's wishes and delayed telling his family that he was going to be changing careers. And with law school drawing to a close, he'd gotten distracted from that goal; pulled back into the excitement of finishing law school. Then one day of BarBri had pushed him back off the fence, squarely on the NYPD side. He didn't want to be a lawyer, he knew that for sure, but he'd decided to go ahead with the Bar exam, just because he had so much invested. And the next intake at the Academy didn't start up until September. He'd be done with the bar exam and awaiting his results by then. Before Friday, the only obstacle he'd seen to his plans was his family's objections. "I'll stand behind you when you tell the family," Joe had promised, and they had made plans to do just that. But now Joe was gone forever.

Jamie squeezed his eyes shut against the tears. Joe wasn't going to be there, but that wasn't going to stop him from moving forward with his new career plan. He was going to join the NYPD. It was where he belonged. He'd do it to honor Joe.

Jamie pulled himself off the bed and walked over to the boxes he'd just moved down from Harvard weeks before. He found the box labeled "Important Papers," and dug through it until he located one specific envelope. His NYPD application, complete except for signing and dating the last page.

He flipped through the pages of the application, pulling out one page. The letter of recommendation Joe had written for him. Would they still accept that letter, now that Joe was d… was gone? He hoped so, because it was staying in. He read Joe's words glowingly recommending him to the NYPD, ran his finger over his brother's signature at the bottom of the page. "I'm sorry, Joe. I should've done this sooner," he muttered. He put the page back into the envelope and laid it on the bed next to the suit. Jamie carefully hung the expensive black suit on its hanger, then slipped the suit into its wardrobe bag. He tucked the envelope into the wardrobe bag also and tossed it over his shoulder.

"Sydney, I'm going out. I need some air," he called across the small studio apartment to his girlfriend.

"Dry cleaners?" Sydney asked.

Jamie looked at the wardrobe bag. "Um, yeah."

"Okay, Jamie, but be careful. Please?" Sydney asked.

"Of course." Jamie left the apartment. His first stop was a local copy shop, where he ran a copy of his NYPD application, bought an envelope and sent the original on its way across the city to the Police Academy.

His second stop was across town, at the small row house Henry Alvarez shared with his wife and newborn twin daughters. Henry opened the door, obviously curious about what had brought a law school acquaintance to his door at 11:00 at night.

"Jamie, come in," Joe greeted him. "I'd offer you a beer, but we're fresh out until the next paycheck. Who would have thought graduating would be the expensive part of law school?" Henry joked.

"Yeah." Jamie almost smiled for the first time in days.

"Man, I heard about your brother on the news. I'm so sorry."

"Thanks. It's been a rough week."

"So what brings you to this part of town?" Henry asked.

"This." Jamie held the wardrobe bag out to Henry. "It was going to be my new courtroom suit, but I can't imagine wearing it again, after the funeral this morning. I thought I'd see if you would want it, since I know your budget is tight, with the new babies," Jamie explained. "And we're about the same build."

Henry took the bag and looked at the expensive suit inside. "It's my size. But Jamie, I can't take this for free. It has to have cost you a lot. Let me pay you something so you can afford to replace it."

Jamie shook his head. "I'm not going to need a replacement."

"Why not? I know Baker McKinney has a strict dress code."

"I'm not going to work for Baker. I'm changing careers. Going to the NYPD Academy in September," Jamie told his former classmate.

Henry draped the wardrobe bag over a nearby chair, made the sign of the cross in front of Jamie, and spoke a few sentences in rapid-fire Spanish mixed with some other language.

"Hey, what was that about?"

Henry smiled at him. "My Uncle Hernando is a priest in Guatemala. That was the blessing he would speak over every member of the local police who came to his church. It roughly translates to, 'God protect the souls of the crazy men who stand between the good people and those who would do them evil.' He made it up himself."

"Well, thanks." Jamie smiled.

Behind Henry, a baby started wailing. Henry held up three fingers, and counted down. Right on cue, the second one joined in. "There they go again," he sighed. "I should go help Anna with one of them." He pulled out his wallet and extracted a business card. "Listen, Jamie, if you ever need legal advice, give me a call. Or any advice. Or just a game of hoops. We'll call this suit a retainer against the bill."

"Works for me." Jamie waved good-bye to his friend and began the trip back to his apartment. He'd made his decision, set in irreversibly in motion. He could almost hear Joe's words from November, _"Kiddo, I'm proud of you."_ But now he had to find a way to tell his family, and soon, because the name Reagan on an NYPD application was going to be the talk of the Department in no time. He only hoped they would be as proud of him as he knew Joe was.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Thanks for everyone who has read this story, and extra thanks to those of you have also reviewed! Coming soon: Part Two, where Jamie finally informs his family of his decision to join the NYPD.<p> 


End file.
